


Too Lazy to Love

by Kawaii_Kitty360



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: ?????, A lot - Freeform, Also I literally never proof-read this story sorry for mistakes, Bad Puns, Does this count?, Dog Marriage, Dream Sex, Ecto-Dick(s?), Ecto-Tongue, F/M, First Date, Ft. Sans, Help, I mean you guys did go to Grillby's, Im writing this on my phone for literally no reason, Is this considered fluff, I’m so sorry, Maybe I lied, NSFW dreams, Oops, Papyrus likes jokes too, Plot just kinda got developed by accident oops, Random Update Times, Sex Dreams, Sexy Times, So yeah, Suddenly NSFW whoops, That was a joke - Freeform, That was another joke, This is literally a shitpost because I was bored and didn't want to work on my other story, You ain't Frisk dude, and a vagina, and then you got I♥Yogurt and watched the sunset, awkward bone touching, awkward magical boners, awkward texting conversations, because those are the best, blame Toby Fox not me, bone zone, did I say sans/reader, don’t really, fiRst dAte??, fite me okay, freewrite - Freeform, fuck it I dunno, i dropped soap on my keyboard thats how slippery they were, i guess it's really not the fire arena but we'll just pretend, jealous sans?, just warning ya, kind of, like really bad puns, maybe a bit??, my fingers slipped, not really - Freeform, oh and you guys fuCKING HELD HANDS ALL THE TIME, okay help, or was it, osHIT WHAT'S THIS?!, please buy me a new keyboard, plus I'm Sans trash fite me, probably going to be a bit of Grillby/Reader and Papyrus/Reader in here, seriously ooc, sorry about that, spooky-scary situations, tfw you're the queen of cliffhangers oops, that's canon, this story is just a ball of awkward, this story is progressively going downhill fAST, told you you'd reach the fire arena before the bone zone, well technically, what even is updating any more sorry, you got closer with grillby outside dreams than you did with sans in dreams so it counts, you have them tiddies, you reached the bone zone in your dreams but i'm not counting that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaii_Kitty360/pseuds/Kawaii_Kitty360
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You get a new job at a local bar for monsters, and begin to get trained by a pun-loving skeleton with no chill.</p><p> </p><p>(Earlier known as 'Dust')</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Job

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, if you know me, you'll know I'm already doing a fanfic. I know. This is just for fun and is probably going to be deleted later and replaced with another one I've been working on. So, enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're in need of money, and don't mind the presence of monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, if you know me, you'll know I'm already doing a fanfic. I know. This is just for fun and is probably going to be deleted later and replaced with another one I've been working on. So, enjoy!

It's not every day a human gets a job at a monster establishment, especially something as popular as Grillby's. The bar owned by the fire monster was a great place to get out of the chilly air surrounding Mt. Ebott ever since the monsters came crawling out of the barrier led by a small child, and was usually full of monsters of various caliber. 

You, however, were human, and not having gone to college meant your life could go anywhere that was not good.

It left plenty of free time to do whatever the hell you wanted, though! 

Needing some sort of way for income caused you to try and hunt down open jobs before putting your name around when a flyer caught your eye. Nearly literally, cuz a harsh wind caused it to smack you in the face like some cartoon. Some bar a few blocks down from where you lived needed an extra waitress, being as the building was bigger than it had been down in the Underground. You'd heard about Grillby's from the monsters that shared your apartment building, and figured it was worth a shot.

Dressed in what you thought looked decent enough to score a job owned by a monster, you left your apartment praying they accepted walk-ins.

Just your luck, as they did.

They being the hot monster running the bar. Who was also the owner. And the only worker.

And was made of flames.

Haaah jokes.

Grillby, the owner, ushered you into a back room and sat you down, sitting across from you. On a box. You were having an interview in a storage room.

"Uh, hi," you began, shifting awkwardly. Despite the lack of facial features, you could tell he was urging you to continue. "My name is (Name), and I, uh... D-did I need a resume?"

Grillby dismissed the question and offered his hand to continue. 

You cleared your throat, "I know, it's kinda weird for a human to want to work at a place run by monsters, but I honestly don't mind. To be honest, I'm really interested in monsters. I'd love to work here, and-" 

This time, Grillby stuck out his hand for you to shake. He must've really been really desperate to accept you even past all the word puking you'd just done. Did you even say anything appropriate for an interview? You didn't know, but what you did know was that he wanted you to work as soon as possible.

Handing you a classic fullbody café apron, he motioned up and down his torso, as if showing you what to wear next time.

...when was next time?

"Can I just wear a black shirt and tights next time?"

He nodded, and helped you tie your apron as he nearly pushed you out into the bar.

"Luckily its not crazy yet." You jolted at his voice. It sounded like the crackling of fire, but had the coziness of a fireplace on a winter morning. "I can show you most of the ropes before people start coming in."

He handed you a tray and balanced a few cups, a plate, and stuck some straws and napkins into the pockets of your apron. He nudged you towards a booth and motioned, "Go put a cup and that plate there. And put the rest on the table littered with cards."

You nodded, doing as he asked as he watched. You did your best, but somehow managed to trip over a chair that wasn't even pulled out.

You let out a yelp as you turned your body so the tray didn't hit the ground before you when you felt yourself stop and a weird warm feeling enveloped your body. Confused, you looked at yourself to see a kind of bluish outline to your frame, and Grillby hummed in content.

"Ah, here's our first customer."

Your body was levitated until you were upright and staring into the cheerful eyes of a skeleton.

"Heya," he greeted, releasing the magic hold on you. Your body swayed uncertainly, and you stepped back, holding the tray with dear life. "You didn't tell me you got a new recruit, Grillbz."

"She just came in. She's the new waitress. Her name's (Name)."

"She's a human?"

"She wants the job. It doesn't matter if she's human, monster, or a ghost. As long as she gets the job done decently."

"'She's' standing right here," you interjected, causing Sans to glance at you. 

"Right. Sans, can you do me a favor?"

"Depends on what is."

Grillby motioned to you. "You've seen me do this a billion times. Mind giving her a hand?"

Sans met your gaze before grabbing his wrist and began to pull. 

"Sans."

The skeleton laughed. "Right, sorry. I've gotta _hand_ it to ya, Grillbz; you sure know how to pick them."

You pouted slightly, but held your tongue as Sans placed his hands inside his pockets. "So, kid. Ya wanna have a bad time?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did I write this.  
> Should I continue?  
> No...


	2. Bad Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew that a lazybones was actually a good tutor when persuaded with his tab being slightly paid off?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still sucks.  
> Dunno why you wanted more but here's more.  
> Sans is 10/10 OOC here. Sorry I guess.

You took in a deep breath, the hand on your back firm and unmoving. Another hand came around and pressed against your stomach, helping your posture fit into a more proper one as you held the same tray in one hand, eyes ahead.

“Back straight, shoulders back.”

When Grillby first asked Sans to help you learn the ropes, as he had to maintain the rest of the bar while you were still in training, Sans said he was too lazy and couldn’t really tutor people if he tried. 

That was before Grillby offered to take 5% off his tab. 

This, naturally, got Sans’ attention, as his tab looked like a schedule for a really popular celebrity. They bartered, Sans saying 75%, Grillby saying 15%, Sans saying 50%, and Grillby ending it on 25%. 

With a not-entirely-forced sigh, Sans decided that he would begin to teach you how to be a waitress, although he knew nothing about it himself.

So he said.

“It’s not a matter of balance (well it technically is), it’s a matter of stance. How you carry yourself is a lot more important than how your balance is (they kinda go hand-in-hand, actually), so if you stand like this”-- he puffed his chest out slightly, hips aligned with shoulders and head raised--”then you should have less risk of falling over versus this.” He slumped on one leg, shoulders hunched over and head dipped. The posture seemed more natural on him than the proper one. He was holding a tray with the same stuff on it as yours, and as he walked with the tray, you could see him nearly trip a few times as he dragged his feet. “See? It’d really _drag_ if you fell in front of a whole crowd of people, dontcha think?” 

Oh, hardy-har.

“It’s a lot better to carry yourself and actually pick up your feet.” He once against demonstrated, and as you watched you could feel your muscles cramping. Being slumped on a couch in front of a laptop 100% of your day didn’t help the fact that now you had an upstanding (haaah puns…) job that resulted in a sudden change of posture. 

“I gotchu,” you answered simply, and he motioned for you to try it. Grillby had you both go into the storage room for better practice, using large boxes as table reference. It was really helpful, even if the simple fluorescent light hurt your head. Sans nodded at you as you paced a few times around boxes, keeping the tray raised above head level. 

“Good, good. At least, it’s better than when we first started,” he noted, and you spun on your heel slightly to look at him. He was leaning back on a box, a lazy smile on his face. He really was a lazybones. “You’re getting better. You’re a fast learner.”

“It’s not rocket science,” you quipped, placing the tray down and rolling out your wrist.

He chuckled, pushing off the box. “Of course it’s not. It’s just waitering. Is your wrist okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, grabbing your hand and trying to pop the bone as if that’d help. “I don’t think it’s used to being bent that way quite yet.” 

Sans took hold of your arm, the skeletal digits cold and slightly dusty from holding onto a box. You knew about how when monsters were killed, their bodies just turned into dust, so you hoped that was just it. You didn’t know if Sans could possibly be allergic to anything, nor how much “HP” he had, and didn’t bother asking as he began to lightly massage your wrist.

“You seem very determined to help me get this job,” you observed, causing him to lightly chuckle again. His motions against your wrist were helping, surprisingly enough, but you paid no mind. You were too focused on the way he was staring at your wrist, with a smile in his eyes and concentration on his face.

“I’m pretty _determined_ to get as much of my tab paid off as I can, and if Grillby says he’s going to take off 25%, that’s enough motivation to make me help you.” 

Ah. So it wasn’t because he was trying to be a nice person. 

How much did he have on his tab, anyway?

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you even if I wanted to,” Sans said, releasing his hold on your wrist. You flushed as you rolled your hand in place, holding just below your wrist. You said that out loud? “But I know it’s bound to be a lot, being as I ate 10,000 G worth of hamburgers and fries with the help of a friend.”

 _Literally me,_ you laughed mentally, and made a face. “That’s amazing. How did that even happen?”

He shrugged, hands back in his pockets. “Dunno. Needless to say, my wallet was _ground_ raw and _fried_.” He winked, and you placed a hand on your face with a snort. 

“Oh my god, seriously? Those were so bad.”

“You’re smiling.”

You looked away. “I love jokes. Guess you can say I’m--”

“ _Pun_ sexual?” Sans finished, and you pushed his arm with a playful pout.

“How dare you steal my punchline!” You said through a grin, and he shrugged slowly, smirking at you. 

“Not my fault it was there for the taking,” he teased with another wink. You rolled your eyes and picked up the tray.

“I don’t think Grillby will be happy if he knows we slacked off for nearly five minutes. C’mon, your tab isn’t going to pay itself.”

With a playful grin, Sans lifted his hand and made a spin motion. “Again.”


	3. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh

By the time you got home, it was almost 11 and you had to go back to work at 8. Not like it was all that bad; you still had time for sleep, video games, food, video games, and sleep. You let out a loud sigh as you fell onto the couch, rubbing your feet disgustedly. You hated feet, and the fact that they needed to be massaged grossed you out beyond belief, even if they were being fondled by yourself. It just made it even more gross that you were using your bare hands to massage your bare feet covered with sweat and toejam.

Nevertheless, you begrudgingly heaved yourself off the couch and into the bathroom for a thorough handwashing before going out to get the hamburger and fries Grillby thrust into your hands last second before you went home. The food was coated with grease, but you didn't care as you bit into the bun and meat, mouth exploding with flavor as a moan slipped through your throat.

“Holy shit,” you sighed as you gobbled the meal down with ease, leaving the fries for a snack as you got up for a drink.

Flopping back down on the couch, you opened the lid to your laptop as you popped a fry in your mouth, typing in your favorite website address to pass the time when your phone vibrated on the table next to you. You checked it and saw it was from an unfamiliar number, but the message itself was all the answer you needed.

**Message from: xxx-xxx-xxxx**  
_ >hey, it’s sans._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Hey Sans. I hope you’re happy; all that walking made my feet sore :b_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >like that’s my fault. you got the job there; i just had to prepare you for the rest of your time working there_  
_ >>but, hey, if it’s any consolation, grillby likes you, so that’s something._

A smirk crept onto your face as you typed out your next message, knowing that he was going to go exactly where you wanted him to:

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >That’s good. tbh, he’s kinda hot ;) _

You set your phone down with a snicker as you went back to your laptop, hands landing on the keyboard right as your phone vibrated once more.

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >whoa, dude. didn't know you were into that. good to know, grillbz might be happy to hear that._

…

Or not.

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >I just meant because he's made out of fire.  
>>I mean, I'd so tap that, but I don't think he's into that. _

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >i’m sure he would be, actually. i mean, i don't really know him on such a level to ask, y’know?  
>> you probably could, though, if you’re curious. want his number?_

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >No, thank you. I’m sure there’s a far more attractive human out there to get his number._

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >in case you couldn’t tell, we’re not really liked by humans.  
>>i mean, there are some other people i talk to aside from you, but that’s beside the point._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Are they hot?_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >just about as hot as you.  
>>in fact, i think they even have your name as well._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >That’s kinda weird. Do you have a fetish with people named (Name)?_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >nah. just wacky coincidence.  
>>think they all look like you, too. _

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >okay wtf_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >haha, i’m just messing with you. you’re the only (Name) i talk to here._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Here?_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >don’t worry about it._  
_ >>oh, yeah. i wanted to warn you that if i don’t reply suddenly, it’s probably because my phone died. i’m too lazy to charge it. the only reason it’s working now is because my brother put it on to charge in case he needed to contact me for something super serious._  
_ >>>anyway, i look forward to seeing you at work tomorrow. see ya._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Whatever. You better explain to me what you meant next time we see each other. Bye, Sans._

What a confusing conversation.

Shoving another pinch of fries into your mouth, you chewed thoughtfully as you browsed the internet, sitting back in boredom. 

You were honestly a bit worried that every single message Sans sent you was going to be a joke, and were happily relieved when none of the messages entailed a pun. Except the last messages, in which he mysteriously had to go really quick. Pushing the thought to the back of your mind, you shut your laptop and grabbed two remotes: one for the TV, and one for your gaming console [A/N: if it is your laptop, then just pretend that you grabbed the laptop and put it on your lap rather than grabbing the TV remote] to game for a bit before you had to take a shower for work the next day.

*

You were late. Like, seriously late. 

It was nearly midnight when you went to bed, deciding to shower in the morning and setting an alarm for 6:45 to get up, shower, get dressed, and go out for breakfast before work. Which, naturally, left 6 hours of sleep, if you’d woken up to that alarm.

Which you didn’t.

Naturally.

Instead, you woke up at 7:34, leaving hardly any time for a shower (you managed one anyway) or breakfast, barreling out of your apartment at 7:45 with damp hair and a soggy piece of toast in your mouth. No time to brush your teeth, your hair, or apply any sort of other necessities. 

You were dressed in a black shirt and tights, like you’d planned, however, and your converses made racing down the sidewalk toward Grillby’s easier than heels, like Sans had suggested before you left yesterday. You laughed in his face before leaving, knowing there was no way in hell you’d ever wear heels. Especially when running this late.

Grillby and Sans both looked at you as you fell through the door, falling flat on your face. Which was okay, because you were holding your half-eaten toast in your hand.

“I’m here,” you mumbled as you planted one of your feet on the ground and stood, dusting yourself off despite the fact there was no dust on you. Just a lot of dog hair.

Sans was giving you his doofy smile as Grillby pushed his glasses up and walked past you, the warmth of his flames making some of the hair fall off. As he pushed the door shut and began to bend down to plug in the sign that read ‘open’, you were struck with a crazy idea and just rolled with it. 

Grillby paused as he felt your arms wrap around his warm body, pressing yourself against him. Not only did it warm your body that was chilled to your bones, but it also caused the hair to unstick from your clothes and return to the ground in which it came. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, confusion the only emotion in his voice. 

“Hugging you. You’re warm and make a good lint roller.”

“Hey, kid, I know you think he’s hot, but seriously, it’s opening time and the royal guard’s bound it come in at any moment,” Sans yawned from the other side of the bar, causing your body to snap away from Grillby. He finished the act and looked back with more confusion written on his countenance. 

You felt your face become as warm as Grillby’s body as you nearly chucked the toast you were still holding at the shit-eating grin on Sans’s face. “Why’d you have to go and say that?” you squeaked at him as Grillby simply walked back behind the bar. 

Sans bent his elbows, offered his hands to the ceiling. “You didn’t tell me I couldn’t.”

“I thought you would’ve assumed that I didn’t want you to.”

“You’re the one who said it in the first place. Obviously you wanted _somebody_ to tell him. I just happened to be that body.” He winked and you had to take a bite out of your toast to restrain from chucking it at him. 

“Are you two done? (Name), are you prepared to show what Sans has taught you thusfar? You’re the thin line between 25% and more practice.”

“That’s awful kind of you, Grillbz, to offer me another chance at paying off my tab,” Sans mentioned as he leaned on the counter, smiling up at the flamboyant man (damn my puns are on fleek today). 

“She’s the only one to come in for an interview, Sans. She’s pretty important right now.”

“Then why don’t you train her? You know I’m too lazy to do a good job.”

“We’ll see about that. People are about to start coming in.”

Right as you approached the counter and Grillby fitted you with the apron, the door clicked open and a group came in, including a handful of dogs, a horse guy, a rabbit, a venus flytrap-looking guy, and a couple of ducks? You felt like they would have a better time at a lemonade stand (bUM-BUM-BUM.. BA-DUM-BI-DUM).

“Service is generally slow,” Sans informed you as they took their seats, chatting amongst themselves. “See the one smoking? Make sure when you serve his table to at least fidget, or hop on one foot if it helps. He can only see moving things.”

“Why’s that?”

Sans didn’t answer as he tapped the counter and Grillby placed a bottle of ketchup in front of him. “Just pretend you can do a good job so I don’t have to train you anymore. You did just fine yesterday.”

“I wasn’t half asleep yesterday,” you replied, taking the tray Grillby handed you. Every customer was a regular, so Grillby knew their orders by heart. 

Sans nudged you to the table, in which you really almost hit him with the tray before walking over and delivering the orders.

“Awh, who’s this?” one of them asked, her voice laced with kindness. You smiled at her as you passed out the items on the tray.

“She must be the new waitress, dear,” the dog next to her replied, pushing his nuzzle against her. She giggled.

“She’s really cute. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“(Name),” you replied with a small curtsy, placing the tray against your knees.

“What a nice name,” she hummed as she offered a big smile. “I’m Dogaressa. This is my husband, Dogamy.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dogamy continued as one of the other dogs sniffed at you.

“You, too,” you nodded as you reached across and pet the dog’s head. It’s tail began to wag wildly, and you giggled, pulling back. The smoking dog was glaring at you, or so you thought. The moment you began to slightly sway on your feet did his face slightly relax.

“I’m Doggo,” he introduced, and placed his paw on the larger dog’s head. It’s tail began to go nuts again. “This is Greater Dog, and the other dog behind us playing cards by himself is Lesser Dog.”

“Why’s he playing by himself?” you asked, noticing Grillby deliver the orders of the rabbit, horse guy, and flytrap dude. 

“He kept losing,” Dogaressa informed, placing a card down. You were never into many card games, so you didn’t know what they were playing. “He wanted to get better but poor baby keeps losing against himself.”

“That’s so sad.”

“He’ll get it,” Dogamy assured, fanning out his cards in front of his face. “It takes a bit of time is all.”

A whine from the table over filled the air, but none of them paid attention as they continued their card game. 

“Anyway, dear, we’ll let you go back to work. Feel free to stop by anytime!”

“I will,” you agreed and went back to the counter where Grillby stood, scrubbing a cup and Sans sat, actually drinking from the ketchup bottle. You wouldn’t be surprised if the bottle said ‘Sans’ somewhere on it.

The rest of the day was slow, with you only needing to refill the dogs’ glasses and give them food when they wanted. Closing time was again, at 11, and for a majority of your time you were behind the counter with Grillby learning how to mix drinks and memorizing orders. 

The bar was coming to a close and most everybody had left already, aside from the drunk bunny, horse guy, flytrap dude, and Sans. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed Sans worked there as well, being as he was usually the first one in and the last one out. 

Maybe he did. 

“Hey, Grillby?” you leaned on the broom you were holding as the two men stopped talking. “Ever thought of hiring Sans?” 

They looked at each other before busting into laughter.

“Kid, I’m flattered, but I’m too lazy to manage how many jobs I have now. Besides, working for Grillby would ruin the magic of this place.”

You nodded thoughtfully and went back to sweeping. Soon, the remaining customers left, and it was just you, Grillby, and Sans once again.

“It’s almost 11. (Name), mind unplugging the ‘Open’ sign for me while I clean up a bit?” Grillby asked, taking the black half-apron around his waist and draping it over his arm. You leaned the broom against a chair as you did what the flaming monster asked, Sans heading towards the door.

“Welp, I’m going home. See you two tomorrow,” he gave a departing flick of his wrist before he left the building. Quickly sweeping whatever else you could, you dumped it in a trashcan and untied your apron, giving it to Grillby before you began towards the door as he followed close.

“Get home safe, (Name),” he said before shutting the bar doors in your face and locking them from the inside. The building was two stories, with his living space upstairs and the bar downstairs. The power bill was probably killer.

Rubbing your arms, you began to walk home, yearning for your bed and a day off already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....did you like it...?  
>  was the texting conversation okay..?  
> ...  
> ....oh...........  
> ...  
> ...*fades away and into a nearby trashcan*
> 
> ALSo did you guys pick up what I was throwing down about the whole thing with Sans and other human people he talks to? If you did, lemme know! :D


	4. Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is mad at you, and you run into a tall, hyper monster while shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eck

You’d just gotten asleep when your phone buzzed beside you. With an irritated growl, you swung your arm over to grab it, pulling it to your face for further examination.

**Message from: Sans**   
_ >hey, kid, i’ve got a bone to pick with you._

Attached was an image of him levitating a bone glowing blue with a big, goofy-ass smile.

**Message to: Sans**   
_ >What’d I do to be punished with a pun at thREE IN THE GODDAMN MORNING SANS_

**Message from: Sans**   
_ >well, grillby says you need a little more practice, which means more bad times for us both. so next time, at least try._

**Message to: Sans**   
_ >I did just fine?? I think you just want to spend time with me.  
>>And what type of bad time are we talking about here? Last time, your definition of ‘bad’ was actually fun._

**Message from: Sans**   
_ >kid, i ain’t got no problem asking you to hang out if that was it. but it’s not, and we have work to do.  
>>and bad time as in you won’t see tomorrow’s sunrise._

**Message to: Sans**   
_ >Okay, fine, whatever, I’m too tired to be intimidated. See you tomorrow, Sans; sorry for making you work overtime. _

With a huff, you rolled back over and closed your eyes, trying to savor the remaining three hours left before you had to get up, get ready, and return to work once again. Despite trying to find other things to think of, images of fire and blue magic danced behind your eyelids until your alarm blared and you were forced out of bed with heavy limbs and a fresh attitude. 

*

That’s enough for now.”

You let out a loud groan as you fell onto a box, pressing your palms against your eyes. “Thank _Christ_. My feet are going to fall off at this rate.”

Sans leaned against a box nearby, hands in his hoodie pockets. “And so’s my tab. You’re doing pretty good, surprisingly.”

“Surprisingly?” you parroted, leaning up to look at him. He shrugged.

“Yeah, surprisingly. You know: shockingly, stunningly, astoundingly--”

“I get it. I wasn’t _that_ bad when we first began. I could hold a tray and didn’t break anything.”

“I didn’t say you were bad.” You watched as he pulled out a bottle of ketchup and pressed it to his teeth. “I just said you were getting better.”

“So you could say my waitering skills were _sickening_?”

Sans nearly choked on the condiment as he laughed. “Yeah, I guess they were pretty _repulsive_.”

“ _Nauseating_ , even?”

“Definitely _distasteful_ to put it lightly.”

(These puns are stomach-churning, too.)

At least you had somebody to share your bad jokes with now. If you squint, you could almost see Sans enjoying your company, too, despite the fact that you made him work extra just because you couldn’t get the concept of _waitering_.

It’s not even difficult! 

The sudden idea that Grillby was trying to hook you two up hit the back of your mind like a bowling ball falling 10 stories. There was no way you failed so hard at being a waitress that you were _pun_ ished by being taught by Sans again. If he really wanted you to learn, Grillby would train you himself, yet here you were, sharing terrible jokes with Sans. 

Dick didn’t even introduce himself when you first met. 

…

Did monsters even have genitalia? 

Let me rephrase that.

Did _Sans_ have genitalia? 

“Okay, wow,” you said aloud, sitting up immediately after the thought crossed your mind. This caused Sans to open one eye(socket) and look at you with the streak of white he had for pupils.

“You good?”

“I’m great,” you covered as you got onto your feet, testing how it felt to be on them. All this walking around in circles was making you dizzy and your lazy feet sore. “The sooner we get done, the sooner you can get that 25% chopped off your tab. So, let’s get to it, yeah?”

Sans sighed and jumped onto the box, making himself comfortable. “You know what to do.”

*

This time when you made it home, you immediately fell onto the couch face first and just groaned. You’ve been through all the basics a billion times, suffered through a billion jokes, and served Sans imaginary food a billion times. Your feet were killing you, and to make matters worse, you had to go shopping. 

With another loud noise, you heaved yourself off the couch, grabbed your wallet, and went out the door. A store was within walking distance of your apartment, luckily, so you began to slow trek there, wincing with every step.

There were hardly any people (or monsters) in the store, giving you free roam of every aisle and the ability to hate life without anybody fearing for their lives about ‘the scary woman in aisle 12 glaring at a box of Life cereal’. You were nearly falling asleep on the spot, so before anything, you bought some coffee from the machine, a pack of gum, and a bag of Sour Patch Kids, dropping the two chewables into your car before going back inside, the warmth of the coffee rolling over your face with every drink. You only needed a bit, and didn’t expect to be in the store for long. 

You were pacing down the pasta aisle, staring at a box of noodles to try and think if you had any at home. You spun to go back to your cart (abandoned next to the bowties and spirals) when you smacked straight into somebody’s chest. 

“I’m sorry!” you quickly squeaked as you looked up… and up… and up… to their face. To your surprise, it was a skeleton with wide eyes and an opened jaw. 

“Do not be sorry, human,” he chipped, reaching above you to grab something from the top shelve. His cart was nearly full of just things to make spaghetti. “It was me who was in your space. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s fine,” you waved him off as you stepped away from him so he could reach what he wanted to easier. He didn’t take it the right way, though, and gave you a concerned look before smelling himself. You nearly chuckled but instead tried to tell him that you just wanted to get out of his way when he continued with:

“It’s been awhile since I’ve spoken to a human other than Frisk. Forgive me for asking, but do you hate us, too?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. I really like monsters, actually. Speaking of which, it’s really nice to meet you.”

“I’m sure it is!” you snorted despite yourself. His enthusiasm was cute. “After all, I am very great.”

You broke into a grin, and he gave one back as he placed what he grabbed in his cart. “I take it you like spaghetti?”

“Like it?” he repeated, and then gave a sudden laugh (or something. He really just shouted ‘Nyeh heh!’). “Spaghetti’s my specialty!”

“That’s awesome,” you smiled at him and looked at the noodles still in your hand. You decided to place them into the cart and started towards the sauce. “I kinda like spaghetti too--”

“Stop!”

Your felt yourself go rigid, looking up at him. “What?”

“What are you doing?”

You paused, looking at your hand reaching for your favorite sauce. “Uh… getting sauce? Why?”

“You do not buy spaghetti sauce in a can! The best is homemade!” He scooped you up and nearly put you in your cart. “Canned sauce is very bad for spaghetti. Please do not tell me you’ve been using it frequently?”

Dur. “Uh…”

The skeleton let out a groan and placed a gloved hand on his face. “Nyoh hoh… this is very grave news. Please, human, come over sometime so I can teach you how to properly make spaghetti!”

“Uhm… okay.” Once you got a break from Grillby’s.

“Wonderful!” he cheered, which for some reason sounded more natural than the normal tone he’d been using before. “I shall give you my number so you may contact me.”

You took down his number and sent him a test message, in which he replied to almost instantly. 

“Spectacular!” he laughed. “Do not hesitate to text me if you need any more tips on how to make spaghetti. I would give you some here, but my brother is sure to be home now, and is probably hungry after not eating all day.”

“How do you know?” you found yourself asking, and instantly his demeanor changed.

“I don’t. I just hope. His favorite place is quite greasy, and I do not like grease.”

You hummed in response and he grabbed his cart, holding a hand up as a wave. 

“I will text you later, human! It was nice to meet you!”

“You, too!”

As he walked away, you realized a little too late that you didn’t catch his name. Awh, well. He was too far away now.

Pushing your cart, you made sure to grab a couple of cans anyway, continuing your shopping spree on aching feet, wishing you could just go home and sleep forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize the jokes in this chapter are so bad, they're kinda hard to get. Sans mentioned the reader getting 'better', in which you begin to joke about being sick. 
> 
> Ye.


	5. Skelghetti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day at work, yet you find your entertainment through the guy you met at the store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so proud of myself with how many puns I've come up with during the making of this story.
> 
> Even though most of them make myself cringe.
> 
> Euhgh
> 
> Sorry if some parts seem slow; I kinda lost momentum there for a bit (huEUHEUHEUHEHU)
> 
> ....See this is what I'm talking about XD

Sans looked at you as your phone buzzed in your pocket. You already double and triple checked with Grillby to make sure it was fine to text during work, which he said it was, as long as you paid attention to see if anybody needed anything. Which meant nearly every ten minutes checking up on the customers to make sure they were fine. Everybody was easy to manage, and rarely needed anything. It made life seriously easier.

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >HOW CAN YOU EVEN WORK THERE? THE PLACE IS NEARLY COVERED ROOF-TO-FLOOR IN GREASE!_

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >It’s not all that bad. Besides, I really didn’t feel right sitting on my ass all day._

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >YOU’RE PARTWAY RIGHT. IT’S NO GOOD TO BE LAZY, BUT SURELY THERE WAS A BETTER PLACE TO WORK THAN GRILLBY’S.  
>>NO OFFENCE TO HIM, OF COURSE. THERE’S JUST TOO MUCH GREASE._

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >I take it you don’t care much for grease?_

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >I HAATE GREASE. IT’S GROSS AND SLIMEY AND IS NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE TO WASH OUT OF FABRIC._

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >I hear that. Grease IS really gross, but…  
>>It’s kinda dumb, but I feel like it was fate for me to work here._

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >YOU HEARD IT? BUT I DIDN’T SAY IT? WAS THAT A TYPING ERROR AND YOU MEANT TO SAY ‘READ’? THAT’S QUITE ALRIGHT, HUMAN; IT HAPPENS TO THE BEST OF US.  
>>AND THAT’S NOT DUMB AT ALL! WELL, KINDA BUT, AGAIN, THAT’S OKAY! I WON’T HOLD IT AGAINST YOU. IT’S NOT EVEN TANGIBLE!_

You were slightly surprised when he made a few jokes of his own. He almost reminded you of Sans, if it weren’t for the capslocks messages and childish demeanor. He was still really fun to talk to, though.

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >Yeah, I meant ‘read’. Sorry about that haha. And I’m glad you don’t think it’s dumb. You’re honestly the only person I told about it._

“About what?”

You jumped and defensively held your phone to your chest in alarm. Was Sans reading over your shoulder the whole time? 

“Hey, c’mon, it’s not like I didn’t already read it. So make like a glass and spill.”

You sighed and looked at the message.

“Getting this job.”

“Do you have many people to tell?”

“Do you have to ask so many questions?” you quipped as your phone buzzed. Sans raised a browbone and fell against the counter, looking out over the bar. You huffed and answered, “I don’t really have many people to talk to. I only contact my parents on holidays or when they want to know if I’m still alive.”

“Worried you’d be killed by monsters?” He sounded offended.

“Something like that.”

Silence, and you picked up the tray Grillby laid for you to retrieve the dishes from the tables. 

Once you returned, Grillby taking the tray, you fell back in place next to Sans, staring out over the bar.

“Don’t have any friends?”

You shook your head. “Well, I do, but they’re all in college and I lost touch with them.”

Sans hummed. “Why didn’t you go?”

“Not my forte. Needless to say, my parents had mixed feelings. On one hand, they’d spent 15 years saving up for a college fund, but on the other, they’re happy I didn’t have to use it. Well, all of it. They transferred it to my bank account so I could pay my bills.”

Sans gave you a funny look, and you matched it. He looked away with a smile. “Why get a job, then?”

“I didn’t like feeling like a bum.”

There was another silence between you, and you pulled out your phone to reply when Sans once again spoke.

“Knock knock.”

“Moving onto knock knock jokes?” you teased before you faced him, locking your phone. “Okay, who’s there?”

He grinned. “Dishes.”

 _Oh no._ “Dishes who?”

“Dishes a very bad joke.”

Despite yourself, you snorted. “Wow.”

“I know.”

“I got one.”

He was staring at you now. “Go on.”

“So a guy and his girlfriend are hanging out one night, just chilling and having a good time. She leaves, and in the morning, the guy gets a phone call from a mysterious number saying that he kidnapped the girlfriend and demands $3,000 dollars for her safe return. The guy begins to ask questions: ‘Why, who are you, what do you want besides money, etc’. The kidnapper eventually gets fed up and interrupts the guy’s ramble with a joke. He says: ‘Knock knock.’”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Who’s there?”

“Flask.”

“Flask who?”

“ _Flask_ too many questions and I’ll _breaker_.”

Sans snorted (and not how I usually say snort as in a sudden exhale of air out the nose in amusement, I mean straight-up _snort_ ) and began to laugh like it was the best thing he’s heard in a year. “Oh my god; did you just come up with that?”

“Not just now, but I did come up with it.” Pride seared in your chest. “Did you like it?”

“Holy cow, kid, that was the best thing I’ve heard in a while,” he wiped a tear from his eye socket and gave you an amused look. “I didn’t expect that level from you.”

You gasped dramatically. “I’m offended, Sans. You underestimate my level of terrible jokes.”

“I guess my hypothesis was wrong,” he winked.

“Seems like you need to experiment a little bit more on joke making,” you jeered, elbowing the air around his ribs lightly. 

“I need to perform more tests and find a new method.” You could practically hear Grillby’s frustrations. 

“Your jokes are _crackling_ me up, I can hardly _contain_ my _combusted_ laughter,” Grillby fired before either of you could say anything. The puns were alright, but his agitated and annoyed tone really sealed the deal. Grillby nearly hit you both with a bowl of fries as he handed you the tray, sending you off snickering to deliver and retrieve dishes.

Once you made it back again, you pulled out your phone and read the message.

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >AND WHY IS THAT?_  
>>NOT THAT I MIND, I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHY YOU HAVEN’T TOLD ANYBODY. ARE YOU EMBARRASSED?  
>>>DO YOU NOT HAVE FRIENDS, IS THAT IT? OH, HUMAN, I AM SO SORRY TO LEARN THIS INFORMATION! DO NOT FEAR! ME, BEING SO GREAT, WILL GLADLY BE YOUR FRIEND! I’M SURE MY LAZYBONES OF A BROTHER WOULD LOVE TO AS WELL. WOULD YOU LIKE HIS NUMBER? 

Another skeleton’s number? No way.

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >I do have friends, but they’re all in college. And I appreciate the offer, but I don’t know how I would even begin a conversation with your brother._

You stored your phone again, noticing Sans eye on you. “Can you stop staring at me? Grillby said I could text on the job.”

Sans shrugged, and closed his eye sockets again. He was probably really tired, judging by the bags that somehow began to make themselves known. You almost felt bad for him, but then remembered that if anybody was holding him here, it was technically Grillby.

 _Technically_ it was you, too, but Grillby was the one who assigned Sans as your teacher; you didn’t choose him. 

You looked at your phone. It was barely even five yet. How did you survive the other days? Sighing, you leaned against the counter again and looked at Sans. He appeared to be sleeping, so you didn’t want to bother him. You looked back at Grillby, who was scrubbing a cup.

Your phone vibrated.

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >OH. WHY AREN’T YOU? AND STARTING A CONVERSATION IS EASY WITH HIM! JUST SAY: WAKE UP. HE REPLIES ALMOST IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY THAT._

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >I just didn’t want to. And maybe he only replies cuz it’s you? Assuming he likes you._

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >WHY WOULDN’T HE LIKE ME?  
>>DON’T YOU LIKE ME?_

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >Of course I do, but some siblings don’t like each other._

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >AND WHY NOT?_

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >I wouldn’t be able to tell you._

You looked up at Sans, who was looking at his own phone now. He sighed and put it away, hands back in his pockets. He caught you staring and winked. You furrowed your brows and looked at your phone again.

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >DO YOU HAVE ANY SIBLINGS?_

As you went to reply, a hand landed on your wrist, nearly knocking it from your grasp. “Whoa!” you nearly dropped the device but luckily caught it, glaring at Sans for nearly breaking your precious electronic. “What?”

Sans looked guilty for a second and pushed a plate of fries your way. “Here, I ordered too much.”

If you loved anybody in that moment, it was definitely Sans.

Grabbing a napkin with your opposite hand, you shoved some fries into your mouth, thinking about how ‘Skelghetti’ would probably implode if he caught you eating them. Thinking about him caused you to think about his messages. He had a brother, most likely also skeleton, who was lazy and liked to hang out around grease… there was a possibility that Sans was his brother. But how to approach the question… 

Sans was watching you, amused, and you stopped, wiping the napkin across your lips. “You wanna know what I really want right now?” you asked, popping another one into your mouth. You were famished, being as you last ate five hours ago, and made it known by nearly eating the whole plate the fries were on. 

“What’s that?” Sans asked, taking one of the fries and twisting it between his fingers. You almost didn’t want to look away, but as you turned to grab a fry and look back at him, it was gone. 

“A nice, big, fresh plate of spaghetti.”

Sans was reaching for another when you spoke, but your statement didn’t seem to make him hesitate. “Depends on who it’s made by, honestly. You should come over sometime. My brother’s _strained_ to get _pasta_ ll his previous spaghetti-making struggles, and he _parsley_ made it, but now his food is at least edible.”

You couldn’t believe how many puns he fit into that one paragraph, but it did give you the answer you were looking for. “I’d love to try it sometime.” 

Sans grinned and ate another fry. “I’m sure he’d love to have you try it. He’s always eager to show off his cooking.”

“I bet he’s the best at homemade sauce.”

“Yeah. It’s all he uses.”

“It is great for spaghetti.”

Sans lifted a bottle of ketchup to his teeth and took a drink. “You’ll definitely like my brother.”

“Is he a writer?”

Sans gave you a funny look. “Uh… no, why?”

You shrugged. “Just wondering.”

Sans didn’t look convinced. “If you say so, kid.”

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >WHEN WOULD YOU BE INTERESTED IN COMING OVER, HUMAN? ANY TIME IS FINE. THE SOONER THE BETTER, THOUGH. BUT IT IS UP TO YOU WHETHER YOU COME LATER RATHER THAN SOONER._

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >Is tonight alright?_

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >WOWIE! TONIGHT WOULD BE STUPENDOUS! I WILL MAKE SURE MY BROTHER AND I TIDY UP A BIT FIRST. WHAT TIME WILL YOU BE ARRIVING?_

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >I think tonight Grillby is letting me off at 7, because it’s Friday._

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >ALRIGHT, HUMAN, I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR ARRIVAL. I WILL TEXT MY BROTHER TO GET HIM HOME, AS IT IS ALMOST SEVEN ALREADY._

You looked up at Sans, who was jumping off the stool and stretched a bit. “Welp, I’m off. I guess that means I should be leaving now.” He looked at his bare wrist. “I told my bro I’d be home around now. I’ll see you around,” he winked before walking to the door, and you swore you heard his phone let out an angry buzz in his pocket as he shoved the diner doors open and left. Before the doors shut, however, you saw a flash of blue, but only assumed it as his jacket as you reached for another fry in thought.

*

It was nearly 8 when you began to head out of your apartment, pulling out your phone to text the guy from the store you were on your way when you realized you didn’t even know where he lived. With a huff, you shut your door and hurriedly typed up a message.

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >Hey, I just realized something. How am I supposed to enjoy your spaghetti when I don’t know where you live?_

You locked your apartment and began to head down the stairs.

**Message from: Skelghetti**  
_ >I AM SO SORRY HUMAN! I TOTALLY FORGOT TO GIVE YOU MY ADDRESS!_

He sent it to you, and you painfully realized you could walk to it. 

**Message to: Skelghetti**  
_ >I’ll be there in a jiff._

Putting your phone in your pocket, you started down the sidewalk in silence, wishing you just got there already so you could get off your feet. You’d been craving spaghetti like mad recently, and were excited to finally get some. 

You double checked the address before knocking a few times, fixing your appearance (hair, clothes, any drool from thinking about food, etc.) while you waited. You heard a loud voice from within, silence, the voice again, more silence, and an even louder scream of, “JUST DO IT YOU LAZYBONES.” followed by silence, and then a loud groan. That’s when the knob began to turn.

“I am sorry for making you wait, human,” the skeleton sighed as he held the door open for you. “I didn’t want to risk ruining the spaghetti, but my brother fled to his room right before you knocked. He seriously needs to socialize more.” 

“That’s quite alright,” you dismissed as you stepped into the abode. It was nice and warm, a change from how cold it was outside. “But before this gets any more underway, may I ask for your name?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he began to fidget. “I’m th- ...I’m Papyrus. I’m sorry I did not introduce myself beforehand; I was in a hurry to make it back home.”

You chuckled at his embarrassment. “It’s fine. I’m just glad I can give your number a name other than ‘Skelghetti’.”

Papyrus snorted, pressing his gloved hand to his face. “‘Skelghetti’? That’s even worse than my brother. I bet if you were to tell him a knock-knock joke through his bedroom door, he’d come down in a heartbeat.”

“I’m sure he’ll join us in his own time.” The faint sound of a trombone reached your ears, and the smell of burning water (‘sMOKE’ OR ‘STeAM’, ANYBODY?) reached your nose. “Uhh--”

“Excuse me!” Papyrus nearly flew into the kitchen, and habit entailed you to open the first window you saw so no fire alarms went off. You’d had your fair share of smoky kitchens and they were never fun to deal with. As you were doing this, you heard a loud clatter from the kitchen, followed by eerie silence.

“Everything okay?” you called, and a weary voice shouted back:

“Yes! I am fine, everything is fine, nothing is fi-- _I mean_ , nothing is wrong. I, the Great Papyrus, have everything under control!”

 _The Great, huh?_ You took this moment to look around the living room. There was a big TV across from a green couch with stains, as well as an armchair. A coffee table sat between the two items, and an end table was between the armchair and couch. There was a vase atop of it, as well as a book you really had no interest in. Along the walls were pictures, but you didn’t feel like looking at them too closely, rather heading into the kitchen. Papyrus was busy working on the meal, which gave you a second to scan the area. The door to the dining room was to the right, almost lined up with the counters, a couple of counters along the same wall. You walked back into the living room and sat in the arm chair, pulling out your phone to pass the time. Before you knew it, he came back in to tell you it was done, heading up to his brother’s room to relay the information. You made your way into the dining room to find three servings of spaghetti, and instantly your mouth began to water. 

You sat down across from another plate, assuming Papyrus would sit at the head of the table with his brother in front of you. Not like you minded; you highly doubted they’d be very judgemental towards you.

“Glad you could make it.”

To both your surprise, astoundment at yourself that you even made the connection, and utmost confusion at the change of fashion, Sans was leaning in the doorframe, grinning at you in a simple white tee and sweatpants. 

Your only weakness.

“I agree, Sans,” Papyrus said giddily, passing his brother and sitting where you assumed he would. “Though I did not know you knew each other. When did you two meet?”

When did you start working at Grillby’s? Almost a week ago?

“A coupl’a days ago,” Sans answered, plopping down in the chair across from you. Papyrus was beaming at both of you like a child.

It was really cute.

“Wowie, and you didn’t tell me?”

“You never really asked, bro. I didn’t think it’d be important.”

“Is that why you were hanging out at Grillby’s so much?”

“Yeah. Besides, we had a lot to _ketchup_ on.” Sans winked at you as Papyrus made a face. He was about to start protesting when you gave Sans a smirk.

“That was good, I cannot believe you actually _mustard_ the courage to use that pun, Sans.”

The look on Papyrus’s face was hilarious, but you had no time to enjoy it as Sans shot back:

“I appreciate the _condiment_ , but we both know you can do _butter_ than that.”

A two-in-one, huh? 

“Don’t get _salt_ y with me; just _relish_ the fact I think your jokes are so good I _mayo_ -sk you for training.”

“I cannot believe you two right now.” Disappointment was dripping off Papyrus’s words, which caused you and Sans to laugh. “Don’t tell me that’s all you have been doing with each other.”

“What else is there?” you asked, spinning your fork in the noodles. None of you had actually touched your food, and you had no idea what you were waiting for. 

“Sparring, hanging out, going on dates; you know,”--

“Dates?” you lowered your fork in confusion, looking at Sans. He shrugged as Papyrus continued like you didn’t say anything. 

\--“anything but making jokes all day while practically bathing in grease!”

“Grillby’s isn’t that bad,” you defended as Sans picked up his utensil and prodded at the noodles. 

“In fact, I’d say it’s rather _well done_.”

You snorted despite yourself, earning a grin from Sans and a sigh from Papyrus. 

“Please, guys, none of your puns are even _rare_ enough to deserve credit.”

Did…

Did Papyrus just make a pun?

You’d never seen anybody look as proud as Sans in that moment. 

“Well,” you began, lifting your fork again. “I guess we’ll have to _steak out_ some fresh ones, won’t we, Sans?”

“Yeah. We’ll make sure they _meat_ your standards, too.”

The rest of the night was filled with more bad puns, fresh spaghetti, and good laughs. In the end, Papyrus let you sleep over, Sans offering his bed almost immediately before Papyrus’s proposal gave him the idea of a legit sleepover, including sleeping in the living room after watching Papyrus’s favorite movies and even catching some famous robot from the Underground’s midnight show, much to Papyrus’s delight. Papyrus was the first to go, Sans staying up only because you and he were texting each other the puns the whole night. If at any point he’d began to doze off, your message jerked him awake. You felt kinda bad, but in the end, you could always look back at those puns when you felt down. 

“Hey, kid, I’m dead-tired,” Sans hummed next to you, having slid off the couch once Papyrus fell asleep to give him enough room to comfortably stretch out. You both could still see the TV, not like it mattered, as your eyes were practically on your phones the whole time. “As much as I’d love to hit the hay, we don’t own horses, so I don’t have any.”

You snorted, giving him a small shove. “Then hit the carpet.”

Sans looked at the brown rug and gave it a hearty smack. You put a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter, and Sans gave you a grin before he stretched and flumped over onto you.

You gave his skull a pat. “Goodnight, Sans.”

But he was already out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanna know the most difficult thing about writing two stories at once?  
> The attitude.  
> This story kinda has a sarcastic tone, while _Just One Dance_ has more of a serious tone, y’know?  
>  I have to reread the previous chapters and cringe to get the tone right XD
> 
> Also don’t ask what ‘flumped’ is. It’s just one of my weird words. It basically means ‘to fall over lazily’ or ‘slumped'.
> 
> Let me know if you spot any mistakes, plez; I don't ever proofread what I post XD
> 
> Also, you know that long-ass complicated joke that ended really dumb and didn't make sense?  
> I legit came up with that on the spot and just left it.  
> Its super dumb but what'd you think (besides that it was dumb RIP)  
> [Did you mean: the whole story so far?]  
> Srsly tho; feedback on these lameass jokes would be awesome. Thanks <3
> 
> Stay awesome you guys ;3


	6. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it really called a day off when you go to work anyway?  
> It is when you end up relaxing like you wanted to in the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments give me life <3 I love you guys so much~ ;v; 
> 
> I feel like I should change the title of this story to _25%_ because that keeps being brung up.
> 
> Also this was a really slow write; sorry if it's boring af

Finally, a day to relax, find your lost sleep, and enjoy time alone with nothing but your couch and video games. 

Heh. You wished.

After the sleepover with Papyrus and Sans (in which you still woke up at five, finding you practically sleeping on Sans’s chest while you swore Papyrus was choking on his own saliva by the strange noises [snores] coming from him), you prepared breakfast omelets (in which the brothers enjoyed completely and Papyrus invited you to go cooking with somebody named Undyne), and after the meal was over, you washed dishes with Papyrus and said your goodbyes, gaining a simple wave from Sans before he fell back asleep on the couch. Not like you really minded; he deserved a break just as much as you did.

That was what you thought until Sans asked you if you wanted to come into Grillby’s to just hang and enjoy your time there rather than work like a dog (in which you assumed he was referring to the Royal Guard and sent him a simple ‘haha’ in response). He didn’t take that for an answer, _surprisingly_ , and asked if you wanted to or not. 

Now, why on earth would you even go back to work on your day off, even if all you were going to do was sit with Sans and enjoy the warm feeling you got from being in there? Classic answer: the bartender’s hot. Realistic answer: the bartender’s hot _and_ Sans is fun to be around. 

So you went, rather than working on reforming your couch crease like you should’ve been doing, but working so much was slowly beginning to get you back into shape (despite all the calories you knew were packed within the food you ate nearly every day), and you didn’t feel like earning that all back in one day. 

“Glad you could make it.”

“Keep saying that and I’ll start thinking you don’t mean it,” you responded as you sat next to the skeleton, who grinned up at you (not like that was unusual, seeing as he always had a grin on his face).

“C’mon, I mean everything I say,” Sans responded as he lifted what you were sure was a ketchup stick covered in ketchup. Not like you were judging, but _why_?

You waved up at Grillby, who was staring at you, who lifted the cloth in his hand cheerily before scrubbing again. He really is a sweet guy.

“Regardless, I never really imagined you being happy to see anybody other than Papyrus,” you admitted, smiling up at the polite fire who handed you a drink. 

“I never said I was happy to see you, I was just glad you could make it.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

He shrugged and held up another fry. You were surprised how clean he was, considering he was basically holding pure ketchup with a side of potato. “I guess it might be. Besides, I’m always happy to see a friend.”

You didn’t know whether to feel flattered, but decided that was probably the best you’d get out of him. “Fair enough.” You took a sip of your drink and thanked Grillby when he set your own plate down for you. “So does that mean you consider me a friend?”

Sans put on an exaggerated thinking face. “Well, if you like bad jokes and we’ve practically hung out every day, and if my brother likes you, and we’ve actually hung out at my place at least once, and…” he paused, catching himself before continuing, “then yes, we’re friends. Both by normal and my brother’s standards.”

You were a bit confused by what that could mean, but didn’t bother asking, shoving a fry in your mouth to stop yourself in case your curiousity got the best of you anyway. “That’s a relief,” you said after you finished chewing, taking another drink. “I was worried it was one-sided.” 

“Nah, our friendship is like a coin.”

“Jeez, if you wanted me to foot the bill, you coulda just asked,” you teased, pressing a fry against your lips but not eating it yet. 

Sans snorted and mocked you with his ketchup bottle. “I’m the one who treats you, not the other way around.” 

“The only reason you’ve been training me is so 25% of your tab is paid off. If it’d make life easier for me to start paying when we go out, then I’ll do it. I don’t mind.” You really didn’t, being as you had plenty of money in your bank account, but Sans still waved you off and tipped the bottle back against his teeth. You wondered how none spilled over, being as, as far as you could tell, he couldn’t even open his mouth. 

Or maybe he was too lazy to; you didn’t fucking know. 

“Nah, it’s alright. Trust me on this one.”

Despite the part of your brain yelling at you to keep fighting, you eventually let it die, figuring Sans wouldn’t budge any time soon. 

You figured that you’d at least pay off your portion, and began to pull out your wallet.

“Whoa, hey, what’d I say about paying? This is me treating you, remember?”

You ignored him. Not like it did much good, as the wallet was soon encaptured by magic and yanked from your hands. “Hey!”

“I told you,” he began again, shoving it in his pocket. “I’m treating you.”

The new tone sent a shiver down your spine, so you stopped fighting and let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, fine. If you insist.”

About ten minutes of chatting with other customers passed before Sans suddenly tapped your wrist and jumped off the stool. “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

“Wow, Sans leaving Grillby’s on his own for once?” you gasped, giving Grillby a polite wave, smiling when he waved back. To your surprise, his hand closed around yours and he began walking towards the door. 

“Shocking,” he rolled the lights in his sockets in a playful manner as he tugged you. You let out an uncomfortable noise at the movement, but Sans nearly ignored it as you both tumbled into the snow. 

“Where are we going, anyway?”

No answer. You felt a sharp pang in your heart, feeling like he was ignoring you. 

That’s when it happened.

You felt as though your being was ripped apart, like half of you was left in one spot while the other was drifting through space. In a way, it was.

The feeling of magic striking your physique caused your eyes to squeeze shut, but after a few moments, you opened them back up to find… nothing.

Well, almost nothing.

Sans was still latched onto you, though you almost didn’t feel him. He felt… weightless, and, come to think of it, so did you. The only way you knew he was there was the distinct trail of blue leaking out of the left side of his face. 

And then you blinked, and it was over. 

“Wh--” Before you could even ask any questions, the bricks that were your organs flopped back into your body, causing a jolt of nausea to ripple through your body. You had no time to control it, and turned around to lose everything you’d eaten at Grillby’s into the frosty grass below. “What… was that…?” you panted, wiping your face with a napkin you didn’t even remember snatching from the diner counter and discarding it in the nearest trashcan. 

“Don’t worry about it. You should be fine,” he grabbed your hand again and walked you towards what looked like an I-heart-Yogurt. You let out a groan at the thought of more food.

“Why didn’t we just walk?” you asked, holding your opposite hand to your head.

“You know me. I’m too lazy for that.”

You were in no mood for a chuckle. You let him drag you into the building, ordering two medium-sized cups and both of you filled them up to the near brim with yogurt, snacks, and creams. You laughed when he pulled out your wallet and gave the cashier two tens. Taking the change back, he shoved it all in his pocket and took you outside again.

“Listen, Sans, I really appreciate the gesture,” you began, nudging your spoon back in your yogurt with your chin, “but I’d love to know where we’re goin-- _uff!_ ”

You just barely caught your cup after running into Sans so suddenly, peering out from behind him to see where you were. To your confusion, it was the park. “Ah, I get why we didn’t use a vehicle,” you began, Sans slightly turning to you. “We had nowhere to _park_.”

He snorted. “Don’t.”

“Too late.”

He squeezed your hand and took you towards a bench, you both sitting down next to each other. You were sure Sans would’ve held onto you the whole time if you didn’t take it from his so you could use it to warm up your frozen hand from clutching the yogurt. 

“Heh, sorry, kid,” Sans hummed next to you, running his hand across the back of his neck. You nearly choked on a gummy worm when he jerked away from his own touch; he’d used the hand he held his cup in. “I just didn’t feel like being in that place anymore.”

You gasped dramatically, holding your spare hand to your mouth in feigned shock. “What? Sans, are you okay? Are you ill?”

He chuckled and leaned back, examining the goop on his spoon. It almost looked gray, and with the chocolate sauce he spread it in, it almost looked like a haunting figure. He gave it a weird look and dropped it back in the cup. “I’m fine. I should be asking you.”

You made a noise of confusion that, in words, probably sounded something like, “Hehhn?” 

“You seemed like you were having a bad time,” he winked at you and offered his hands to the sky, his yogurt on the bench beside him. “Figured I’d help you out and take you somewhere else. Besides, who can pass up yogurt? Personally, I really _love it_.”

You smiled, scooping some of your own sludge onto the plastic spoon and taking another bite, feeling Sans’s gaze on your the whole time. “Gut ‘n ishue?” you spoke around the spoonful, causing Sans to break into a grin (not like he wasn’t grinning before but eh). 

“Nah.” He lifted his own spoon to his mouth, examining it. You were already on your fifth spoon while he was just on his, what, first? 

You put the spoon into the cream and looked around the area. Trees were everywhere, as a park should have, as well as a sidewalk cutting through and making a path for people to walk on. The field was big, and looked freshly cut. The crisp air felt nice in your lungs, and you inhaled deeply to savor it before you glanced over at Sans to see the spoon sticking out from his teeth, his face thoughtful. 

“You okay?”

He blinked at looked at you, grin slightly fallen in surprise. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good,” you looked away and the two of you ate in silence. 

*

Where are we going now?”

“C’mon, you’re going to love it.”

You let Sans tug you towards a hill, the sun setting in the distance. You had a feeling as to what he was doing, but didn’t really want to jump to conclusions until you knew.

Turns out you did.

You felt your breath leave your lungs in awe at the view of the sun setting under the mountain range, the clouds a beautiful pink/purple/orange color against the contrast of the orange/blue sky. It was truly breathtaking.

Sans smiled at you. “Told you ya’d like it.”

You found that you couldn’t draw your eyes away from the sight, not even when Sans entwined his skeletal fingers with yours. You two stood there, just watching the sun set.

*

I had a nice time today, Sans,” you admitted, smiling at the monster as he smiled back. 

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“There’s that phrase again,” you chuckled, and, to your astonishment, Sans took your hand in his and held it up slightly.

“That’s because I mean it.”

You grinned, and watched as he walked away.

*

You shot up in bed, eyes wide and face flared red, remembering what Papyrus said when you went over there about being friends with somebody: Sparring, hanging out… 

_Going on dates…_

And what did Sans say earlier?

Bad jokes (training each other with more knowledge on jokes and whatnot, though you were sure you’d never heard Sans say the same joke twice [at least, not in front of you]), hanging out every day, _and_... 

…

‘And’ what?

What else, under _Papyrus’s standards_ , was there to being friends other than sparring (bad jokes), hanging out and _going on dates_. 

Like hell would you be getting to sleep with _that_ on your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I used a lot of parentheses in this chapter oops.
> 
> And-and-and~ what’s this~?
> 
> Is that a bit of Sans/ReaDER I SEE???!
> 
> It’s finally rearing it’s glorious head from out behind the script! Oh, joyous day!
> 
> Don’t expect a decline in Papyrus/Reader/Grillby, though! That’s going to just as prominent now that (Name) thinks Sans might be interested. He’s noticed Grillby/Reader before, but will he get jealous next time like (Name) wants him to? Only time will tell!
> 
> (HonestlyIDontFuckingKnowImJustKindaRollingWithThisAndThisIsWhatHappenedIsThisWhatItFeelsLikeToBeGoodAtWritingHolyCowImInLove) 
> 
> Be honest: How many of you guys got the ending before it was mentioned? C’mon, don’t be shy! I’m curious if anybody caught it!
> 
> ...Anybody? :I
> 
> Don't forget; feedback is appreciated!


	7. Netflix and Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans comes over for a little Netflix and Chill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I have to cut back on daily uploads because school happens and homework sucks and I feel like chapters have been rushed and forced and uGH. 
> 
> I’m going to try and pump out chapter with actual _feeling_ ; I dunno if you guys noticed, but last chapter felt really stiff to me, and that’s when I realized that I need to actually take my time with these things.
> 
> I’m sorry, again, but I want to give you guys the best quality, so ._.

3:46 AM and you’re about to throw your phone at the nearest wall. With a small growl, ready to go off like a bomb next time you saw Sans when you noticed the text wasn’t a pun, wasn’t from Sans, and brought good news that made it seem like Jesus was falling from the sky like a fucking meteor. 

You didn’t have to work on weekends. Period. Grillby just texted you saying you also had Sunday off.

This news nearly opened the waterworks of joy as you sent Grillby almost a million thank yous, in which he responded with a simple thumbs up emoji, which was good enough for you. You were definitely sleeping in.

And, once again, your plans get foiled by a short monster and his jokes.

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >hey, would you mind if i came over today? or, technically today. cuz it’s past midnight._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >How badly do you wanna_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >not very badly. papyrus is too busy training with undyne, so i’m going to be home alone. besides, you’ve never showed me your house before. i’d love to see it._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Oof.  
>>I guess I can allow that. But don’t come any earlier than, like, noon. I have a lot of stuff that needs cleaning._

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >sure thing. i’ll probably be sleeping until then, anyway. sea you later._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Shore._

With a groan that described how much agony your soul was in, you heaved yourself out of bed and began to clean up, starting with the living room. It was going to take you a while.

*

Knock knock.

“Come in!” you shouted at the door, knowing it was Sans. The door didn’t click open, though, and instead he knocked again. And again. And again. The same double knock that sounded like the beginning of a joke. You huffed and began to pull yourself off the couch when your phone vibrated.

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >doris._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >What> Doris who?_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >doris locked. that’s why i’m knocking._

You snorted as you unlocked the door and looked up into the face of Sans the Skeleton. 

“You were supposed to ask ‘who’s there’ in the first place.” You rolled your eyes as he came in, looking around. “Adequate size for somebody like you.”

“You calling me small?” you asked, placing your hands on your hips sassily. How dare. 

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“How rude.”

“About 10.”

You smacked his chest, earning a chuckle from him. “So, what did you want to do again? I got games, food, a couch; take your pick.”

“You also got a bed.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. “That’s off limits to everybody but me and those who I decide are worthy.”

“Is Grillby worthy?”

Fuck yeah. “I do not feel comfortable answering that.”

He grabbed you by the shoulders and heaved you towards the couch, causing you to fall over the arm and land in a position weird enough to crack your back for you. You nearly melted at the feeling before you adjusted yourself and Sans sat down next to you. 

“Comfortable now?”

“Can you not?” you laughed, grabbing the TV remote and changing the channel off whatever you had it on. 

“I’m not a boy scout, but I probably could, yeah.”

“You’re just prepared for anything, aren’t you?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to practice.”

You snickered as you aimlessly searched through your TV. “Wanna watch Netflix or something?”

Sans shrugged. Helpful. 

You huffed as you leaned back, propping your legs on Sans. He looked at them, and then did the same, crossing one of his legs over yours. You gave him a goofy grin as he gave you a lazy smile. “Why are you this way?” you teased, and he shrugged, closing his eyes, which brought up the thought of how much sleep he got at night. Being a skeleton didn’t prevent the exhaustion rings from being evident under his sockets. Your skull probably would look the same, if it weren’t for the fact that wasn’t physically possible.

After a few minutes, Sans let out a grunt as he leaned down and grabbed a bag you didn’t notice, placing it on the table. You could smell Grillby’s wafting out of it, and sat up as he began to pull out the items: two sandwiches (yes, _sandwiches_. Like, BLTS), fries, and onion rings? You didn’t even know Grillby had those. 

He nudged a sandwich your way, and you scooped it up, checking it out. Seemed far better than the hamburgers you’d eaten nearly every day for a week, so you bit into it without much thought. Flavors exploded into your mouth and on your tongue, earning a groan from you. You hadn't eaten breakfast, so to taste such a delicious item caused pleasure to register through your brain and body. Sans grinned at you as you scarfed it down, and when you looked, his was already gone. Talk about a fast eater. 

“So, whatcha got on Netflix?”

“Everything,” you coughed around the sandwich, setting it down for a minute and wiping your hands on a napkin. “What’re you interested in?”

As you reached for the remote, so did Sans, causing your hands to overlap and you to press a few buttons (volume up, next page, etc.). “Oh, sorry.” You began to pull back when he grabbed your hand again, looking at it. “Er--”

He was too busy staring at it, feeling your fingers and ghosting his digits across your palm before twining his fingers between yours as though he were examining roadkill. He pulled back before pushing against the webbing, testing the way his phalanges rubbed against your skin. You let him do his thing, thinking it was kinda cute the way he seemed to be nerding out just by this. And you were witnessing it.

Awh.

“Humans are so weird,” he announced, and you let out a puff.

“Monsters are pretty unique, too.” 

He smiled fondly (or should I say foNTLY HUEHEUHEUEHUEHEUHEUH) and let go of your hand. You smiled stiffly back before taking the remote and looking through your options. “Well, we have--”

A soft snore cut you off. You looked at him and laughed behind your hand, turning the volume down and selecting one of your favorite series that you’d seen before a couple of times. 

You got a bit comfier, but all your wiggling around caused Sans to slump over onto you, landing face first into your lap. Not like you minded; it was kinda cute. You chuckled and decided to get him in a better position when you realized he was actually really light. Probably because he was literally just bones. And magic, but that was technically air. 

The new position had you leaning on a couple of throw pillows resting on the arm of the couch, Sans’s legs over the other arm in what you hoped was comfy for him. Your legs were on either side of him, his skull nestled against your gut and one of his hands resting on his chest, the other on his stomach. It was super comfortable for you, but he was asleep, so you didn’t know how it was for him. You hoped it was good, but you didn’t know. You rested your hands tentatively on his head, running your thumb over his skull. It was rough, just like you’d imagined bones being. You couldn’t help but think he could use some lotion, but that probably wouldn’t help. You never really knew why, but skeletons always interested you; especially the ones made from magic, like in _Skyrim_ and whatnot. Soft snores were emitting from his nasal bone, filling you with happiness. He looked so… serene, just sleeping there. You felt like he deserved a rest, and overlapped your arms on either side of his neck, the sleeves of your hoodie rubbing against his bone. 

Yes, hoodie. You were wearing a tanktop under it, but you didn’t feel comfortable without wearing it, at least around Sans alone. Plus you didn’t have any clean shirts (other than the one you were planning on wearing tomorrow for work), and it was really cold in your apartment.

You drew your arms back in alarm when Sans twitched against the fabric, a snort escaping past his snores. His breath was funny for a second, before he went back to snoring just fine. 

You know that one phrase? Curiosity killed the cat? 

You know what else they say about the cat? Satisfaction brought it back.

You tentatively pressed your fingers against his neck, watching the way his head moved out of the way. His bones were probably more sensitive than skin, which would make sense. You trailed your fingers up the bone and dragged them under his jaw, tracing the inside of it before continuing up the outline of where you could reach on his skull before repeated the process down the other side with your opposite hand. Before you could even think about how weird it was, you moved your fingers down the inside of his hoodie, under his shirt, and onto the bones hidden underneath. The moment your hands touched his collarbones, you pulled back, deciding it would probably be safer if you could actually see what you were doing. Before you completely got away, though, two hands latched onto your before you could even blink. 

“It’s kinda rude to feel people up in their sleep, dontcha think?” Sans hummed beneath you, and you could feel your shame crawling on your back. “Just because I’m a monster doesn’t mean it’s okay, either.”

“I’m sorry,” you yelped, instinct making you try and pull away but his grip was strong. 

“If you wanted to see my bones, you could’ve just asked.”

You didn’t hesitate, “Can I see your bones?”

Sans paused, then laughed aloud. He heaved himself off you, and you fixed your position so you were cross legged, Sans sitting similarly to you so you were facing each other. He waggled his browbones at you as he shrugged his jacket off, and you rolled your eyes, watching as he set it on the floor next to the couch. Your gaze immediately snapped back as his arms moved down to the hem of his shirt, lifting his arms with it. The first thing you noticed was his spine and the way it seemed to curve in due to his back being straight to lift the shirt off his bones. Next was his ribs and the way they almost seemed puffed out by his motions, and for a few moments you saw his shoulder bones stretched to accommodate his pose. Then his arms were down, shirt on the floor, and slouched position resumed. You resisted the urge to reach out and touch his ribs, just admiring the way they looked. 

“So, kid, is there any specific bones you’d like to see?”

Hipbones. “Not really. I just wanted to see if skeleton monsters looked like how a human skeleton looks.”

Sans chuckled. “Yeah, there isn’t much difference except the fact that we don’t need skin to function.”

You nodded. “As I can see.”

Another awkward silence of you just staring.

“You can touch, you know. Not like I should tell you; you didn’t have a problem doing it earlier.”

“I know,” you snapped back, face flushing red. He laughed as you bit the inside of your cheek and began to reach out. You caught his gaze, wide grin still prominent and challenging. He raised his browbones at you once more and you furrowed your own brows, pressing the tips of your fingers against his ribs. Before you could even comprehend doing so, he exaggeratingly tossed his skull back and moaned lewd and loud.

You pulled back as though you touched fire (which then caused your brain to think about how Grillby would look shirtless, but you quickly tried to think of something else right after), and Sans burst into laughter. 

“Gee, kid, you sure are a _rib_ tickler. You really think it’d be that easy to get me to blush? You’re too much, but I’m up for the challenge. Well, technically I’m sitting for it, but that doesn’t matter. C’mon, give it your all.”

You swallowed, forcing your breath to even out before you once again, slowly, reached for his ribs. Right before you reach the bones, however, you moved your hand down and gripped his spine. Needless to say, it felt weird going through somebody’s torso, used to seeing flesh rather than empty air. It seemed like there should’ve been friction, yet there was none. 

Well, until your hand actually made contact, and two hands were shoved against you, knocking you back a bit. You released hold so you could catch yourself, nearly breaking your palm on the coffee table to find purchase. You looked up to question his actions when the look on his face caused your words to become trapped in your windpipe. 

A hand was over his mouth, for once his grin not showing past, his sockets angled a little differently as his browbones forced his expression to change. His face was glowing a bright, fluorescent blue in a flustered way, and you swore you’ve never seen somebody start sweating so fast.

“Holy shit, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize--”

Sans held his opposite hand to you, closing his eye(socket)s. “I’m blaming that on me,” he huffed, opening one eye to you. His eyelights seemed… bigger, almost, and the whole situation caused your eyebrows to raise. He inhaled, moving his hand back to his lap and sitting up straight, before he hunched with a wink, blush gone and grin back before you could blink. You could almost hear a casual, almost playful/teasing tune in the back of your mind that reminded you of Grillby’s for some reason, but didn’t question it as you went to ask Sans if he was okay. You couldn’t, though, as he pulled out his phone, the song you were hearing emitting from the device. He answered it and leaned back uncrossing his legs and sprawling them nearly over yours. 

“Yeah, bro?” There was no trace of a quiver to his voice anymore, and you felt your jaw slack in confusion at how fast he could act like he was completely fine. You couldn’t hear Papyrus quite right, but you could still hear some of it, as though it were being spoken underwater or something. “Ok. Ok. Ok. Yeah. Ok. Bye.” He hung up and shoved it back in his shorts, snatching up his shirt and pulling it on as he grabbed his jacket. “Paps wants me back home for some reason. Didn’t say. See ya around, kid.”

You nodded, keeping your legs crossed as Sans walked towards your door and disappeared with a flash of blue.

And that's when you remembered Papyrus was supposed to be training with Undyne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck dude I don’t know how bones work. I didn’t get fricken kineman or whatever to load kms.
> 
> *clears throat* cLIFFHANGER~~~
> 
> I feel like there's a shortage of jokes in this; I'm sorry
> 
> Also no, no bonezone yet. Sorry :b
> 
> Not claiming credit for the 'doris locked' joke; some guy I ran into on Omegle gave me that one and I was just 'Oh, hey.'  
> So credit to him, wherever he is <3


	8. The Plan {Was A Bust}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had a stupid plan with no idea what the gain was just for Grillby to split during the night, leaving you and Sans alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~What even was this chapter~~
> 
> This story used to be so good what happened
> 
> Plot happened.
> 
> Don't sweat guys; nothing serious happens. Remember, Sans is too lazy to try anything ;3

Another day at work, but some part of you didn’t mind. After falling asleep watching TV at around 8, you woke up before your alarm and got a headstart, able to actually eat a healthy breakfast, get dressed, and even spent some time on your phone before you left your apartment. You were wearing a tight U-neck shirt and jean booty shorts that normally you wouldn’t get caught dead in, but it was all part of the plan. You were wondering if it was even going to work, or if it was overkill, but it was a little too late for that. 

“Hey, look who’s on time,” you sung as you walked into the diner, looking around. It was just Sans and Grillby, like usual, and you began to walk over to plug in the open sign.

“Hey, kid, you’re looking a little _short_ today. I know your closet’s running a little _tight_ but that doesn’t mean you can walk around and _converse_ like that.”

You paused, looking over at them, giving him an awkward grin. Sans had a browbone raised at you while Grillby was just scrubbin’ a cup.

“I didn’t think I had a dress code,” you quipped, nearly doing a squat as you sunk to the floor, balancing on your heels to plug in the sign. You made sure it was as enticing as it could be before you slid back up, wiping your dusty fingers on your blouse slowly and in a way that made it seem like you were trying to make it hug your frame more. So Sans wasn’t going to be easily deterred, but you could still try.

…

You hated yourself. 

“I’m not saying you do,” Sans shrugged, holding a ketchup-slathered fry up and looking at it before looking at you with the same grin.

You leaned on one leg a little more, feeling oddly powerful for some reason. Maybe it was because you thought you looked really sexy (which you did, at least you hoped). “Where do you go getting any say as to what I can wear or not?”

“Can you not read into things? There’s a librarby for that. I’m not saying anything.”

You huffed and walked up to the counter. “Grillby, do--”

Before you could finish, he set a milkshake down with two straws that looked like peppermint candy canes sticking from the froth. You and Sans both looked at it, then up at Grillby in a synchronized way. His flames seemed a little brighter, and he continued to clean the cup.

It almost seemed like it was Grillby’s job to surprise you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you sat down, examining the cup. It looked like a larger version of a generic milkshake glass (you know, the ones that looked like glass bluebells?), full almost to the top with the milkshake itself, the remaining inch of just whipped cream. You leaned down and took a sip, pulling back to contemplate the flavor. While you did this, Sans picked up the glass and took a long drink as you tried to place the flavor. It was something you’d tasted before, but weren’t sure from where. But it was good, and that’s all that mattered.

The same group of customers came in and resumed their seats, filling you with a wave of nostalgia, as if they’d never left. The Royal Guards continued their card games (looked like they were playing slapjack), the two duck-like monsters came up and greeted you and Sans, and the bunny that was usually wasted did what they normally did: came up, ordered a drink, and said hello in a very alluring way to Sans. Sans greeted them back, and you took a drink of the shake before standing up and taking the tray of food from Grillby.

“Oh, my, (Name)!” Dogaressa smiled, looking you up and down. “You look really good today! What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion, Miss.” You chuckled as you placed the dishes down, causing her to coo and Dogamy to laugh.

“You look spiffy enough to go on a date!” her husband joined in, and Greater Dog yipped in agreement. Doggo was too busy shuffling his cards around to notice, but grumbled a thanks anyway. At first, you always thought he was mad or upset, but Dogaressa assured you that it wasn’t that he was upset, it was just because he was an avid dogbone smoker. You didn’t question it, just figuring that it was just the dog version of cigarettes, and you weren’t wrong. “Smell great for it, too!”

You laughed at what you assumed was the compliment. “Why, thank you, Dogamy. I’m flattered you think so.”

“I agree,” Dogaressa pipped up, her attention back on the cards. “Are you _sure_ there’s nobody you want to date around here?”

You thought about-- “I don’t think so. I’m not really interested in anybody at the moment.”

All of them slapped the table at once, and she laughed heartily as the rest whined, claiming her prize. “Well, if you ever do, I’m sure they’d be very lucky to have you.”

You thanked her and went on your way, serving the bunny and flytrap next. Grillby already got the horse guy and ducks, so you handed him the tray once you were done, resuming your spot next to Sans. You could hear him snoring, and chuckled as you drank some more of the milkshake.

“Hey, Grillby,” you leaned up and began to whisper, his flames flaring slightly. You coulda swore he had a brighter look to him, but paid it no mind. “Was Sans here last night?”

He nodded, his fire flickering. He stayed quiet for a few moment, before murmuring back: “His brother’s been training with Undyne since yesterday, and hasn’t called in a while. Sans is worried.”

You sat back, looking at the sleeping skelly beside you. He was probably up all night worrying about his brother. It was kinda sweet, but you also felt bad. That was probably why he left so suddenly (plus you probably made things awkward when you grabbed his spine [how were you supposed to know doing that would cause that reaction?]). You placed a hand on his back and rubbed slightly, trying to comfort him in his sleeping state. He didn’t stir, luckily, and you looked up as Grillby placed fries in front of you.

“Do I have a tab now or are you taking from my paycheck?” you asked teasingly before thanking him anyway. He rubbed the back of his neck and let his breath out. It took another few moments for him to speak again.

“Don’t tell Sans, but I haven’t been charging you. You work here, you help out, and the customers really like you. There hasn’t been a fight since you started, and for that, the least I can do is let you eat for free.”

You wanted to hug him, but you settled with smiling warmly. “I really wouldn’t mind if you started charging me. You can put all the stuff you’ve given me on a tab, that way I can actually pay you back for being so nice to me.” 

He shook his head, and you patiently waited once again, smiling up at him encouragingly. You didn’t doubt that he was drunk when you first started working at the establishment and that’s why he was so talkative. It was probably really hard to handle so many customers without being at least tipsy. 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. Besides, despite taking 25% off Sans’s tab, he still has to pay quite a lot.”

You chuckled, and leaned back slightly, putting another fry in your mouth. “I bet. How much is on his tab, anyway?”

Before Grillby could answer, a yawn from Sans caused you both to stop talking. He stretched and fell on the counter with a long groan.

“You good?” you asked cautiously as he stretched, rubbing his face. Times seen without a grin: 2.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” he huffed, rolling his shoulders out. He looked at you and grinned. “I would ask but you look pretty fine to me.”

You stared at him in confusion. Did…

Did he just _flirt_ with you? 

He then proceeded to wink at you. Your face flushed.

He just fucking flirted with you.

Flustered, you picked up a fry and stuck it in your mouth, chewing while you looked around. Grillby placed a drink in front of you and pointed to the bunny, and you took it, peeling your skin from the stool with a noise in discomfort. As you walked away, you heard the two of them talking, and right as you placed the drink down, you felt yourself getting dragged backwards towards the stool. You huffed as you raised above the ground and…

...Placed behind the counter?

“Wait, what.”

“Grillby’s stepping out for a minute. You know fire; they need oxygen sometimes,” he smirked as he leaned on his elbow, hand against his cheek. “Besides, you’re going to have to learn how to man the bar sometime.”

“But I’ve never--”

“Now’s a time to learn.” He waved his hand a little, and you leaned on one leg. “Besides, helping you with this gets me another 15% off my tab.”

“Damn, he’s being generous.”

“He likes you.”

“Do you like me?”

“Sure. Anyway, we haven’t got all day. And don’t worry; you’ll be fine.”

*

Surprisingly, it was pretty easy to master.

You stretched your limbs out before rubbing your face and sighing. Grillby hadn’t come in yet, so you and Sans were chilling inside, waiting for him to come back. Sans was asleep on the counter, snoring softly as you poured yourself another drink. Nonalcoholic, and what Sans deemed to be alright for you to drink. It was like coffee, for monsters, so as long as you didn’t have twenty cups in five minutes you were fine. You weren’t that tired, but you were bored, and the stuff was good, so you drank.

“Sans, hey, you awake?”

He grunted.

“Do you think Grillby’s okay?”

“Ye.”

“How sure?”

“100%.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because if he wasn’t okay, I’d know. Trust me. Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t. I have to go home.”

“I can take you home. Just rest.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not.”

“I had four cups of coffee.”

“Why.”

“Because I’m bored and tired and this is good.”

He lifted his head and popped his neck. “Listen, kid, Grillby’s fine, I’ll take you home, and-- _stop hitting the juice_.”

You set the cup down and began to refill it. “I know how to handle my caffeine, Sans. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m worried because I don’t know what multiple glasses can do to somebody.”

“You said it was fine.”

“I said it was fine for a few glasses.”

“I’ve only had a few.”

“You’re on a few more.”

“Shut up.”

You took another sip and he nearly slapped it out of your hands, but he exhaled heavily and stretched. “It’s not good to drink when you’re stressed.”

You grumbled that you weren’t stressed as you took another awkward sip of the drink. Maybe you should find some water. 

“My bad. You’re _worried_.”

It was your turn to grunt. “Is there any water, then?”

Sans nodded and stood up. “Yeah, I think so. Lemme go look for it.”

“I wanna come.” You weren’t going to tell him that the empty bar was actually really freaky, being as you were used to people being there nearly every time you came.

Sans motioned for you to follow him, and lead you into the back, where you guys looked around for any water. There had to be at least some somewhere. 

Sans’s phalanges scraped across the walls in search for the light switch, when they stopped and the sound of it clicking was heard. 

“Something wrong?” you whispered to him, the eeriness of the situation sending chills down your spine. Sans sighed. Since Grillby’s closed, you hadn’t seen him with a grin, which was really worrying as well. 

He didn’t respond, but he held up a hand and summoned in a blue bone, the magic radiating off it and illuminating the area in blue. New shadows appeared and danced as you and Sans dwelled into the backroom. Before you could even stop and think, your hand wrapped around Sans’s free one as you walked deeper into the space. You couldn’t see his reaction, but he didn’t pull away. That was a good sign, right?

You couldn’t help but think about how bad it would be if you were in a horror movie, and instantly began to imagine every single horror from movies you’ve seen. Your grip tightened on Sans, but a few seconds passed before he squeezed back. Sans the Skeleton: a hesitant lover.

…Brain why.

The two of you crept around the boxes looking in and around for any type of water substance that was not alcoholic or had magic in it. You could’ve just walked home and gotten some yourself by now, or Sans could’ve teleported away and been back at least ten times in the time it took you guys to actually go looking for anything other than the caffeine you’d been chugging.

“Why don’t you just, I dunno, teleport home and get some?” you decided to ask, earning silence from him.

“It wouldn’t be very nice of me to leave you here alone. There might be monsters lurking.” If you could see his face, you probably would’ve seen a wink, but hearing it in his voice was enough.

“Sans, seriously, I don’t think--”

Your sentence was cut off with a startled yelp as Sans shoved you towards a box, causing you to tumble over it and fall on the other side. Your shoulder hit the floor, and right before the only light from Sans cut out, you saw him vault over the crate and land beside you, plunging you both in darkness.

“Sans, wha--”

“Ssh,” he hushed, pressing one of his fingers to your lips to shut you up. The only thing you could see through the blanket of black was his eyelights, which were staring right at you. You wondered how much he could see, but you had no chance to ask as he pulled you slightly away from the box you jumped over until your back hit something hard. Either a wall or another box, you didn’t know or care. Whatever Sans saw must’ve shook him up bad; you could feel him slightly shaking against you, and his eyelights faded before his left eye was replaced with a blue glow, once again filling the area with blue. At least you could see now.

“What did you see?” you whispered to him, and he looked up slightly, but didn’t answer you. You were going to ask again when something heavy slammed into the box beside you, and a hand slapped over your mouth as a squeak escaped. His bones were twitchy and his breath was shaky; not like you could judge, because you were sure your heart was about to explode with how erratic it was beating. A soft, haunting hum was heard, slow and echoey in the small space. You were honestly surprised on how scared Sans seemed, thinking that he was too lazy to feel anything. He was probably on edge due to not hearing from his brother for two days. 

The hums continued, the words “Clean, clean~” reaching your ears before you pushed away from the box to the opposite wall so you could see where the footsteps were coming from. It sounded like they were on four legs, the little patter of their feet almost cute, if you were scared that a Cerberus-like creature was going to smash both you and Sans at once grinding you _both_ to dust.

“C’mon,” you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket, crawling towards the opening. “I feel _boxed in_ here.”

Sans snorted softly and you two stood up. He climbed over the box, looking around, before motioning you to follow.

“Whoa!”

The suddenness of the voice caused Sans to teleport away.

“Fuck,” you swore as you jumped over the box, weaved around another, and slipped-

-straight onto a pile of dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When there was nothing but dialogue and very little description, I was aiming for more of a ‘I’m tired, laidback, and in a sarcastic mood fuck off’ type vibe dunno if it came across that way but eh. It kinda seems out of character but Sans is a little annoyed at Grillby, too; plus he’s a little worried about Papyrus. 
> 
> And the dust doesn’t help.
> 
> But the question is: is it dust from a monster, or dust from somebody trying to sweep but losing a dustpan? 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I actually had a bit of Sans angst but then I decided to fuck that idea and here we are.~~  
>  ~~I’m also a moron because I called the two people who sit next to you and Sans ducks when one’s a fish and the other’s a bird and the guy I considered a horse is actually a hamster but we’re just going to ignore that okay okay thanks sorry don’t yell at me plz i didn’t know i didn’t do my research please _don’t kill me_~~  
>  ~~I’m not exhausting the fact I know how to use this; you’re just under-using it.~~  
>  ~~Shut up.~~


	9. Overreaction, Much?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out water doesn't hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super short oops

I don’t know about you, but when I fall into a pile of dust after knowing that when monsters die, that’s what they become, I’m not entirely calm about the situation.

I guess you were too scared and confused to move.

Let’s see, in the past ten minutes, Sans shoved you into a small space surrounded by boxes where he never stopped touching you, some monster was on the loose back here and probably _killed_ your boss, and your only source of protection had teleported away like a pussy as whatever was wandering around stomped its way towards you. 

“Onuh! Yous fell in dusty pile! I woshu-off!”

You turned in confusion to see a cute little green turtle-like monster with a flashlight on its head, made almost entirely out of a bucket, a small bird resting on a pedestal in the middle. It could’ve been cute, if you weren’t panicking about the possibility you were literally laying _in Grillby_. You scrambled back, mind racing. What was it you heard about monster escence still being the their dust? 

“Whoawhoawhoa w-wait a second!”

The creature shook its head as its tail began to wind and a hose started to eject from its side. Dust coated the front of your shirt, your legs, and even a little on your chest as you crawled backwards, surely making your butt a powdery mess. You held a hand up, as if that’d stop it, and winced as water sprayed your face, torso, and hips, drenching you and making your clothes stick. You blocked your face in an almost pitiful way as your forehead still got wet. The water would destroy the dust, wouldn’t it? If you were laying in Grillby, would he still be Grillby after the monster washed you off, or would he be Grlb? Before you could think straight, you felt your clothes dry automatically as the monster began hopping.

“Clean, clean!” it sang before it began to jump away, clearly happy with its job. Any dog hair or dust that was on you before was no longer attached to your clothes, reminding you of Grillby’s fire. You climbed to your feet, brushing yourself off anyway. You were still surprisingly calm, considering the fact that you probably just _ruined Grillby’s life_.

A loud thump from the bar drew you from your thoughts, and you used the monster’s light to dash out to see what happened. You nearly laughed at the sight of Sans laying on the floor beside a tipped table, napkins and condiments scattered around in an almost comedic manner. 

However, the sight didn't stop your anger and disappointment from bubbling over as you stomped up to him, resisting the urge to smack him with a chair. “Sans, what the fuck? You motherfu-- you literally just _left me to die_!”

“Sorry, kid,” was the muffled reply. “I had to make sure I didn’t leave the oven on.”

“If you left it on, your house would be burned down by now!” Did his stove use magic fire? Would it even have burned anything if left on? The curiosity in you really wanted to know, but the smart part of you knew it was dumb to try and find out.

“It doesn’t hurt to double check.”

You growled in aggravation as you sat beside him. You were lucky you were still alive, though, no help to the lazy lump of bones on the ground. What if it had been a larger, less friendly and cute monster? What then?

Well, for one, you'd be dead. 

“What are you two still doing here?”

You looked up towards the stop of the stairs, mouth agape slightly at the voice. Indeed, nearly tumbling down the stairs was Grillby.

A sleepy… shirtless… Grillby.

Hot fuck.

“Oh hey Grillbz,” Sans greeted as he picked himself off the ground. “Didn’t know you were upstairs sleeping.”

“Where else would I be?” Annoyance was clear in his voice, sending an odd, confusing chill down your spine. He sounded so… dominant. 

Sans shrugged, grin back and lazier than ever. It was clear he had no way to respond, so you stepped up, trying to flush out any sinful thoughts from your mind.

“You didn’t come back,” you began, looking up at him. It seemed like he didn’t notice you until that moment, and he stopped rubbing his head as if realization hit him. “We closed up, but we didn’t want to leave until we knew where you were.”

Grillby let out a breath, rubbing where his eyes would be if he had any facial features. “You two can go now.”

“Do you want me to--”

“It’s fine,” he waved his hand, and Sans took your arm slightly. It almost seemed like a protective gesture, but you doubted it. “Get home, you two.”

You made a goodbye motion with your hand as Sans dragged you outside the diner. Even out of sight, you knew there was no way you were forgetting the way he looked without a shirt any time soon. 

Holy damn, them _abs_.

When you blinked, you were in a room you didn't recognize. It was too dark to see anything, but Sans forced you down on something that felt like it was a bed.

Which it was.

You didn't realize how exhausted you were until your head hit a pillow, because the moment you closed your eyes, you were out of reality and into dreamland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but it wouldn't make sense to add the next part directly onto this one. I'm sorry it's so short and lame and eehhh D:


	10. Step Into the Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe you shouldn't have drank so much last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **  
> **  
>  _THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_  
>   
> 
> **  
> **  
> _THAT MEANS THAT THINGS ARE GETTING INSERTED AND NAMES ARE GONNA BE MOANED IN POORLY WRITTEN DETAIL._  
>   
> 
> **  
> **  
> _AND THERE’S A LOT OF POORLY WRITTEN DETAIL._  
>   
> 
> **  
> **  
> _HOWEVER! THE ENTIRE CHAPTER IS _NOT_ NSFW! IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH REACHING THE BONEZONE, PLEASE SKIP PAST IT ALL BY SEARCHING (IF YOU CAN) FOR ‘*****’ BECAUSE THAT’S HOW IT WILL END._  
>   
> 
> **  
> **  
> _IF YOU CAN’T SEARCH FOR IT, JUST SCROLL DOWN UNTIL YOU SEE IT IG._  
>   
> 
> **  
> **  
> _SORRY._  
>   
> 
> **  
> **  
> _PLEASE ENJOY THE VERY SEXY TIMES THOUGH_  
>   
> 
> **  
> **  
> _READ AND CRINGE GUYS, READ AND CRINGE_  
>   
> 
> ~~I can feel my sins crawling down my back~~
> 
> Also I fixed a thing!! I didn't proofread (as usual), and just now I went back and noticed I didn't describe Sans's room like I wanted to! AaahH! But I fixed it, so it should make more sense.
> 
> Silly me and not proofreading how dare

You decided to head to Grillby’s earlier. You didn’t know why, but you felt it was necessary. You got up, completed your daily routine, and began to walk. You reached the diner in 15 minutes, and walked in. After Sans’s weird teleportation fail, it seemed Grillby was beginning to renovate. Tables seemed flipped, and a few more boxes were strewn about. It was kinda weird to see, but you basically ignored it as you approached Sans, who was hunched awkwardly over the counter.

“Hey, Sans. You’re here early.” You sat beside him, looking around. You didn’t know if you should comment on the new look Grillby was giving his establishment or not, so you kept your mouth shut.

“So’re you,” he mumbled, lifting his head and giving the ketchup bottle in his hand a lame squeeze. It wheezed in response, and Sans stopped crushing it. How humane. 

Before you could say anything else, he grabbed the underside of your stool and flipped it, sending you rocketing to the ground. His magic enveloped you, and you were flung towards a box, smacking into it and falling on your face. You tried to pick yourself up, but you failed as more magic grabbed you and levitated you up, forcing you properly on the box. Sans held his glowing hand up, left eye aflame.

“Sans, wha--”

A hand flew over your mouth, shushing you. You looked up at him helplessly as he glared down at you, a sinister look to him, as his magic was somehow shadowing out half his face. It was almost scary.

Almost.

“Sans, snap out of it!” You weren’t sure if he was even under some sort of trance, but you knew you didn’t want to find out. Yet you soon found that the more you writhed, the more your body wanted the magic to fight back. You didn’t want Sans to release you, but you weren’t sure you wanted him to keep you pinned against the box like he was, and it was beginning to look like Sans wasn’t too sure as to what to do himself.

“You want to know something, (Name)?” he hummed, clenching his blue hand slightly, and as he did, the magic started to squeeze you. It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable as it was startling, and you gasped at the feeling of your soul being compressed. “I don’t know if I’m too fond of the way you and Grillby seem to be getting along. I mean, I don’t want to rain on your parade here, kid, but Grillby isn’t the only fire burning around here. You know me by now, right? You know I’m not usually so straightforward but right now? I can’t afford not to be.”

He released his magic hold on you just to replace the bounds with his own skeletal hands, pressing you harder against the wood. Alarm was overriding your body, so you did nothing except pant. “I’m frustrated, (Name). You and Grillbz seem to be making steam while you and I are making nothing but ember. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m planning to change that.” He tugged your arms until they were over your head, and he grabbed them in one hand, taking his now free hand and running it over your neck. “And I know just how to approach this situation.”

The action was so fast, you hardly had time to prepare as he sunk his teeth into your neck; deep enough to strike gold but not enough to cause a spillage. The suddenness forced a surprised moan(?) from you, and your body instinctively arched towards him. His hand wandered down to your hip, his phalanges dancing over your skin as he pulled your top up with his wrist. The feeling of his rough bones against your skin caused shivers to climb up your spine, even more after he stopped biting you and leaned towards your ear. 

“So, what do you say, kid? Have room for one more skeleton inside you?”

You couldn’t respond as he lifted your shirt completely, tying the cloth around your wrists like that would do something. Having both hands free now, he grazed both across your stomach and up and down your ribs. The sensations made you twitch, in which just fed his hunger, and his grin grew. His hands went one more stroke up your ribs before they slid downwards, fingertips (or phalange-tips; whichever you prefer ~~[cuz they ain’t the only tip getting tucked somewhere i mEAN]~~ ) tucking under your sweatpants waistband. Your skin was beginning to crawl in anticipation, pulling against the cloth and feeling it begin to unravel. Shirts weren’t necessarily the best bondage out there, that was for sure. However, Sans ignored the fact your shirt was discarded on the ground behind you, your hands linked as if that’d help keep them together. His grin was almost sinister, head dipped and eyelights out so you almost couldn’t see his eyesockets. You could see a little sparkle as the light glinted off his skull, but other than that, there was nothing but darkness shadowing over his face. His hands begin to pull down, taking your pants with them, leaving you exposed, lying against the wood in just your undergarments. Splinters were the last thing on your mind as Sans trailed one of his fingers from the bridge of your nose, across your lips, down your neck, and over your bra. At that exact moment, he activated his magic for a split second and burned your bra in half. You had no time to react, as he kept pulling his hand down until it reached the brim of your underwear, doing the same thing he did with your bra. You didn’t even know magic could do that. Then again, you didn’t know magic could do a lot of things. 

And you were just about to find out what more it could do.

Sans brushed your bra away so each half landed next to you, hands wrapping around your tits and slightly massaging them. You flinched slightly at the motion, but you didn’t miss his grin grow wide. You knew to expect the worst.

“Sorry, kid, but everybody _kneads_ a good tiddy-massage every once in a while.”

Despite the situation, a snort still escaped you, earning a softer smile from him. He ran his thumbs up and down your cleavage before he actually looked up at you, eyelights back and light reaching his face. Made him seem far less scary, which you appreciated.

“You never answered my question, kid.”

You blinked before your face flared up again, the fact you were completely exposed not entirely making it to your brain. Or it made it, but you didn’t really give a shit. Moving your hands up and placing them on either side of Sans’s face, staring into his eyesockets sincerely.

“Take me to the bonezone.”

An ominous-looking smirk crawled onto his face, but before you could react, his hands grabbed your wrists and slammed them against the box so forcefully, you were surprised they only hurt a little. You winced a bit, before meeting his gaze. The striking blue eye was back.

“Then hold on tight, kiddo, cuz you’re in for a bad time.”

Your body instinctively tensed when you felt one of his phalanges rubbing the inside of your thigh, close enough to home to make the burning desire inside your soul known. You didn’t realize how much you wanted this until you were spread eagle in front of him, his fingers massaging closer and closer to your sweetspot. Your mind was reeling, trying to comprehend what was happening as he brushed over your moist mound and started massaging down your other thigh. 

Little fuck was teasing you!

Sans leaned down and pressed his teeth against your neck, nuzzling you slightly. His hands were still working on your thighs, but the sudden feeling of something warm and wet torn your attention to his working digits below your waist. 

The object continued to explore your neck, sharp fangs occasionally digging into your skin and leaving red marks across the flesh. You let out a staggered breath as he drew back, revealing a fluorescent blue tongue drooping from between sharp canines (that you were certain had never been there before), his eyesockets slightly drooped as he stared down at you with a lust-filled gaze. His eyelights scanned you up and down as if this was the first time he noticed what he’d done. Despite having proper eyes, you could still see the hunger in his dark sockets, and raised your hands to place them on either side of his skull. His tongue slightly retracted as you ran your fingers across it, but it grew again and wrapped around your fingers like a small blue tentacle, leaving blue slime across your skin. It would’ve been gross, if it weren’t oddly arousing. He took hold of your wrist with his free hand, pushing it back against the box.

“Alright, kid; I'm sorry to wrap this up, but I _wood_ rather cut the foreplay short.”

You felt your heart begin to beat faster as Sans held your wrists with one hand, tucking his free one into his shorts.

“You ready for this, kid?”

You swallowed and nodded slowly. His grin became sharklike as he wormed the fabric down and revealed--

His hipbones. Just hipbones. What else were you expecting?

“Well, what else were you expecting?” he chuckled as he released your wrists and angled your face towards him. “But, hey, wanna see a magic trick?”

You raised an eyebrow, certain he was joking, but he waggled his browbones at you and leaned back slightly. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at his hips once again to see something that looked like his tongue extended from the once barren area. Even with the whole weirdness of ‘no dick-- blink-- sudden dick’, you knew it was a dick. It was obviously a dick. 

“That’s a dick.”

Sans snorted. “Well, duh. How else do you think you’d reach the bone zone? Unless”-- he snapped his phalanges and suddenly bones surrounded you, inches from your body--”you wanted a different type of bone zone.”

“Nah, we’ll go with the D,” you responded hurriedly, and the bones were gone. He was still smiling. A bit of sweat was beginning to form on his brow, as if he was worried about something. You were tempted to ask, but held your tongue as he placed a hand on your hip and brushed your destroyed panties out of the way, taking his cock in the other hand. He slung one leg over his shoulder, and paused before grabbing and doing the same with the other one. You both took in a shaky breath together, and met gazes. You bit your lower lip and nodded, signalling Sans to just fucking _do it already_. Sans passed a worn smile to you, and you tensed slightly as you felt the head of his magic press flush against you. Still angling the fluorescent organ, he used his thumb and forefinger to open you a bit more for his (glowing????) girth, pushing himself into you slowly. 

And _hot fuck_ did that burn.

You let out a yelp as you slammed your hands on Sans’s chest, still covered by his puffy jacket. The action caused him to grab your hand still on his chest, pausing his motions as you bit your free one to prevent from making any other noises.

“F _uck_ ,” you whimpered past your knuckles, feeling him pulse inside of you. It was probably taking all his strength not to just thrust into you and get it over with, so you really appreciated the way he placed his teeth against the hand he held. His face was flushed a deep blue, though you couldn’t understand why. Judging by how confident he was, you were sure he’d done this at least a million other times. 

The pain was beginning to subside, and you began to subconsciously roll your hips against him. He let out a single amused breath before retaking hold on your hips and sliding into you. Once you got the pain, it actually pretty great, which was understandable, being as it was, after all, sex. Guess you weren’t expecting to ever end up getting boned by a skeleton. 

You took hold of his jacket once again, forcing yourself against him and him deeper into you. You both took a moment to enjoy the feeling before Sans rocked back slightly before pushing back in. It was a slow process, and your body was buzzing with impatience at just how slow it was. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him deeper, tugging his face down so, if you wanted, you could kiss him.

“Fuck me, Sans.”

The words were all he needed to spark the dominant side of him again as he harshly ripped back and shoved into you at a rough pace. Despite the fact it was probably supposed to hurt, it felt pretty damn good. His breath was puffy in turn with your gasping moans as you dug your nails in the back of Sans’s jacket, feeling the fabric under your fingers stretch with your desperate tugs. His head was on your shoulder, and as pleasure was beginning to take over your bodies, he dug his teeth back into your neck, hard enough to almost hurt, but not enough to draw blood despite the fact he clearly had vampire-like teeth. You groaned at the action as you tried to pull him as deep as you could, panting out in ecstasy with choked moans as he kept his hard hold with his teeth. Your orgasm hit harder than ever, knocking your breath away as his magic seed spilled into you. He let out a shaky groan as he released his bite, causing you to stutter a gasp as where his teeth once were began to throb. Your body felt tired, and you released his jacket, allowing your arms to slump on either side of you. A few moments later, he pulled out, the feeling of the magic running down your thigh mildly grossing you out. He gave you a lazy smile before falling backwards and smacking on the ground. Alarmed, you sat up, looking down to see Sans asleep on the wooden floor. You rolled your eyes and rolled off the box, passing out on impact as well.

 

*******

 

You woke up to the feeling of something rough against your skin. Confused, a groan escaped as you opened your eyes completely to directly stare at Sans’s closed eyesockets. You'd stopped questioning certain things ages ago, being as the most popular answer was ‘Magic’. Confusion still dominating your feelings, you sat up and looked around, the pale sunlight offering light where a bulb was absent. You could just barely make out a desk with a computer on it, a dresser with a couple of what you assumed were picture frames (the surface was reflective against the light, so you couldn't tell) on it, and an open closet door. You could see a few hangers with maybe a few shirts, but there was mainly a pile of clothes sitting on the floor. You assumed Sans would probably just get up and grab something that smelt good from there. 

Stretching slightly, you looked back down at Sans. He was nearly in the fetal position, one knee up to nearly touch one of his elbows while he held the pillow under the arm he was laying on. His other hand was a fist in front of his face, and his other leg (the one he wasn't laying on) was stretched out. A similar way to how you slept. Imagine that. 

Being so close to him allowed you to admire the texture on his skull. You would've imagined it to be smooth, being as he was a magical skeleton and all, but it actually looked a little rough, like real bone. It was still a snow white, but you could see a bit of pale yellow mixed in. You resisted the urge to reach out and touch it, and instead settled with crawling out of the bed, fixing the blankets so Sans didn't get could. You could be thoughtful sometimes.

You snuck around his shoes and a couple of socks before reaching the door, praying it wouldn't creak as you opened it. It didn't. Lucky you. You slipped out and shut it as soft as you could, looking around. The stairs were all the way on the other side of the small balcony-like thing you were on, and you resisted the urge to huff as you crept your way down it and past another room. You assumed that was Papyrus's, and soft snoring from inside proved you to be correct. You slipped down the stairs as fast as you could, trying your hardest not to just vault over the railing to get down faster and prevent the chance of stepping on a weak board. 

You survived without waking anybody, and made a b-line for the kitchen. The least you could do was prepare breakfast for them. 

You grabbed everything you needed to make a basic breakfast, but looked in the cabinet to find that they were out of bread. You made a mental note to let them know and settled with just making scrambled eggs.

You were just pulling the carton out of the fridge when somebody started into the kitchen. You looked up to see Sans, a pale blue shirt on his torso and sweats on his legs, walk in, rubbing his eye(socket)s. It hadn’t even been five minutes since you left his room. “Morning. Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” he shook his head and leaned against a counter. “I was awake for a while. I was just resting my eyes.”

So he had been awake. Was it possible he knew you were staring at him? “Ah.”

Sans gave you a goofy grin, and you went back to the oven, where the pan sat. You applied some Pam No-Stick spray to the pan, shaking it lightly to spread it around evenly before putting it back on the stove. You didn't even get to crack the first egg, because as you went to do so, you felt his arm creep around your shoulders and somebody leaned in to whisper into your ear. What he said was definitely something you didn’t want to hear:

“You’ve got some pretty lewd dreams there, kid.”

Embarrassment flushed your entire being, and you resisted the urge to swat him away. What had you done in your sleep? It probably didn’t help that you were sleeping right next to him. All Sans did was wink before he walked towards the living room. You swallowed the lump in your throat before continuing to make breakfast, the dream fresh on your mind.

* * *

_POSSIBLE OUTCOMES:_

**The following paragraphs you will read below are random ideas/outcomes of the NSFW scene in the beginning. Most were made by a friend (refered to as 'G' [he really wanted me to put them in and that's why this exists], being as I’m awkward and don’t know how to write :T  
Hope you enjoy though~! **

~

...Still angling the fluorescent organ, he used his thumb and forefinger to open you a bit more for his (glowing????) girth, pushing himself into you slowly. the n in and out in and out in and out the n in and out in and out in and out the n in and out in and out in and out the n in and out in and out in and out the n in and out in and out in and out the n in and out in and out in and out the n in and out in and out in and out the n in and out in and out in and out then he spewed out green magots into you and you fell asleep. (G)

~

You took hold of his jacket once again, forcing yourself into him he began to pull you back and then thrust you forward repeatedly over and over moans come from both of you and it was hot in the room and moist. (G)

~

“Alright, kid; I'm sorry to wrap this up, but I _wood_ rather cut the foreplay short.”

You felt your heart begin to beat faster as Sans held your wrists with one hand, tucking his free one into his shorts and tugged them down to reveal--

A chicken. Dyed blue.

The grin he wore could only be described as shiteating. “What? Didn’t you wanna see my blue cock?”

 

You startled yourself awake, confusion and a sense of absolute dickitry in yor mind. Turns out that even in your dreams, you could not escape Sans and his jokes. (Me!!!)

So those were just some things that I decided to throw in because why not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> |･ω･｀)  
> Hands up; who cringed?
> 
>  
> 
> ~~i should just call myself the cringe queen.~~
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Every time I write dick or cock, I always emphasize the ‘ck’ so it’s like _deeick_ or _kawk_.  
>  I don’t know why.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I blame RobertIDK oops~~


	11. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans won’t let you forget about your dream ~~and it seems he can't forget either.~~
> 
>  
> 
> ~~maybe because he's constantly reminding you~~  
>  ~~or is he just reminding you so that he can try and get it off _his_ mind until you guys have an actual chance to talk oooooooo what's happening idk i'm literally just writing nonsense you know that~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! If you're reading my other story, _Just One Dance_ , you may be wondering why this has been updated twice when _JOD_ still has yet to see another chapter.
> 
> That's because I'm running outta Septiplier juice.
> 
> I ain't all about the drama life, and yes, I know, drama is gonna end up blossoming forth in this story, too, but I know these characters. Mark and Jack are a bit more... complex. They're people with feelings and their personalities are more fleshed out than the simple joke-loving/energetic/blank-faced personalities of Sans, Papyrus, and Grillby. Plus in _JOD_ I have to write about a new guy and try and make him sound as _gay_ as possible without offending people.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~too late but whatever~~
> 
>  
> 
> So, I'm sorry to say, but this is probably gonna get a bit more ~~LV~~ love than that one until I can get my inspiration back.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~might help if I start watching Jack again oops~~
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter~ <3

Needless to say, breakfast was very tense.

“Hello, human! I did not know you slept over last night!” The voice of Papyrus was a grateful distraction from your thoughts, bringing you back to the kitchen belonging to the skelebros. 

“Yeah, Sans brought me over. I had a bit too much to drink last night at Grillby’s,” you told him while shoveling some eggs onto a plate. Two more were laid out, but still needed to be slathered with food. 

“Oh, no! Are you okay?” Concern was clear in his voice, causing you to chuckle.

“I’m fine, I think. I’ll be better once I get some food in my system.”

That was when Papyrus realized that you were preparing breakfast. “You’re cooking? Can I help?”

You looked up to see the excited face of the taller monster, clearly eager to help out. If it were anybody else, you would’ve brushed them off and said that you could handle it, but you knew how big of a passion cooking was for him. With a patient smile, you agreed, and handed him the spatula.

“Wowie! You go on ahead and sit at the table! I’ll finish up here!”

You nodded, grabbed the plate of food, and made your way into the dining room. Not to your surprise, Sans sat in his usual spot, staring at the table. You slid the plate in front of him and sat where you sat last time. He looked up, and immediately smirked.

“Heya.” His tone was casual, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. It made you uneasy, but you tried not to make it obvious.

“Morning.”

Silence fell over the table, Sans simply smirking at you as you fidgeted slightly in your seat. 

“So, uh… what are the effects of magic on a human?”

You jumped as Sans snorted and burst into uproarious laughter, nearly falling out of his chair. The eggs were nearly left forgotten as he smacked himself in the face as he kept laughing. The kitchen was silent until Sans’s outburst died down.

“Are you two alright?” 

This caused not only Sans to laugh, but you to start giggling as well. As your chuckles died down, he started prodding the fluffy eggs with his fork, still smiling wide.

“Well, I know more than I don’t.” Helpful.

“Does it, like… I don’t know… highten emotions?”

Sans stabbed his food and held the fork up, as if to admire it, but looked at you instead of it. “I guess it could. I don’t really know though.”

“What?” He worked with magic! How could he not--

“Cuz it’s magic; and good magicians never tell their secrets.” He winked, and just before you could stand and throw your chair at his face, Papyrus came in holding two steaming plates of scrambled eggs, holding a bottle of ketchup with his elbow. 

“Bone appetit,” He placed one of the plates in front of you, using his now free hand to take the bottle and set it in front of Sans before taking his seat and smiling at you both widely. Sans offered you the bottle, and you took some a put a bit on your food before giving him the bottle. He nearly dumped the whole thing onto the plate before squirting some into his mouth. “So, what were you two talking about?” Papyrus sounded very interested, but there was no way you could tell him that you had a very lewd dream about his brother.

“Magic,” Sans shrugged as he stirred the ketchup into his eggs somewhat. 

“What about magic?”

“What it could do to a human.”

“Oh!” Papyrus looked to you eagerly. “Magic can do a lot of stuff! Why?”

You scooped some eggs into your mouth to avoid answering right away.

“She was drinking magic at Grillby’s last night.”

“Is that where you two were?” He was clearly disappointed. “Please tell me you didn’t get grease into your bed sheets, Sans. I can’t keep buying you new ones the moment you ruin them.”

“It’s okay, Paps. We got it _covered_.”

Papyrus stared blankly at him. “Sans, that pun was _sheet_.”

You nearly choked as Sans’s grin grew and he pointed his fork at his brother with a wink. “Thank you for _mattressing_ me about it. I’ll _spring_ back next time and try not to make your _headboard_.”

“Thank you. Your jokes are beginning to fall _pillow_ standards.”

“I guess I’m drawing a _blanket_ with puns.”

“What a terrible _case_ you’ve got there.”

It was humorous on how uptight they were, seeing who would break first. Their grins were wide and unwavering, amusement twinkling in their eyes. 

“All these _bed_ puns are going to put me to sleep,” you interrupted, which was all it took to make them both snort with laughter. 

“Jokes aside,” Papyrus looked at his bare wrist as if a watch was supposed to be there. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work, human?”

You looked around for a clock before pulling your phone out of your pocket. The time was only 7:36, so you still had a bit of time to finish eating and maybe run to your apartment for a change of clothes and everything.

“Don’t worry about going back to your apartment,” Sans offered, shoving the fork in his teeth. “I’ll take you there.”

“You’ve been to the human’s house without me?” Papyrus seemed almost offended, but that’s when you realized he kept calling you ‘human’.

“Papyrus, have I never told you my name?”

The skelebros looked at you. “Nyeh? I… Have you? Oh, no! I feel like such a terrible friend if I forgot your name!” More distressed ‘nyeh’s escaped him, but you reached across and put a hand on his arm.

“No, Paps! It’s okay! I don’t think I ever told you.” He looked up as you pointed to yourself. “I’m (Name). I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. It must’ve escaped my mind.”

He sniffled as he shook your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Name)! And it’s okay; you were probably too wrapped up in how great I am to have remembered!”

Sure, that was it.

The rest the morning was relatively normal, Sans occasionally dropping hints towards whatever happened during the night, causing Papyrus to be confused and you to be embarrassed. Neither of you elaborated, though, and Paps never asked, which you appreciated. Soon it was time to head to your apartment for some clean clothes. 

“See you later, human! Don’t forget about coming over to hang out with Undyne sometime!”

You waved happily at him as Sans slipped on his shoes. “Yeah!”

Sans gave his brother a small wave before shutting the door and grabbing your hand, bringing you both inside your apartment. You thanked him and scuttled to your room to find something clean to wear. Luckily, you found a pair of jeans and your hoodie, settling with that and moving to shut the door and change. As you turned, however, you slammed against somebody’s chest and stepped back in alarm. 

“Whoa, sorry, Sans!” You held up your hands, your clothes draped across your arms, as he looked around, smiling lazily.

“Don’t let Paps see this,” he told you nonchalantly. “He’d have a cow. My room used to look the same, but one day I got bored.”

You didn’t bother questioning his reasons, but you were beginning to question why he was in your room. “Uh, Sans? Either can you let me get around you, or can you step out for a minute?” 

Sans smirked at you. “Why? Wouldn’t you want me to see what you have to offer? It sounded like I was enjoying it last night.”

You could instantly feel yourself start blushing, and you pushed hard on his chest. “Sans, no. Stop. Why are you like this?”

He shrugged as he let himself be pushed from the room. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night.”

You glared at him and grabbed the door. “Just wait a minute, okay?”

He leaned against the opposite wall and raised his eyebrows at you, still smiling. You pouted at him and shut the door before walking into the middle of your room, already taking off the shorts and sliding off your undies. You felt gross, being as all the night before you were in a humid area, and then you fell asleep in the same outfit, but you had no time to take a shower, even if you could be quick. Grabbing another pair of panties, you decided on a shower when you got home, and pulled your jeans up, shimmying into them with what you imagined as a sexy wiggle. You pulled off your shirt next, thinking about changing your bra, or even wearing one at all, and decided on the further, unhooking your bra from behind. It took you a moment to scour out another one, but you found it in your underwear drawer, like it should’ve been. Right as you put it on, though, your door clicked open.

“Sans, what the _fuck_ are you doing?” you held your hoodie to your chest as you spun around to face him. He didn’t seem fazed as he shut the door behind him, once again filling the room with light coming from the small nightlight plugged into an outlet in the corner of the room. 

“You said wait a minute. I counted sixty seconds,” he said lazily as you kept staring at him. “Aren’t you gonna keep gettin’ ready? You still have to brush your teeth, don’t you? It’s almost time to go.”

“I can’t change if you’re looking at me,” you snapped, holding the jacket closer to yourself. 

“I’ll close my eyes.”

“Or you can leave my room.”

To make matters worse, he sat in your computer chair, leaning back slightly. “I just came in though.”

“So what?” You weren’t just going to flash your unclothed chest at him; that was inappropriate!

“You saw my chest, didn’t you? Let me see yours. Besides, its not like I can see anything anyway. You just look like a shadow from here.”

You puffed your cheeks out. He was right, though; the light barely reached you, and you could always just turn around and put your hoodie on with your back to him. Then again, you didn’t know if you really trusted him with your back turned. He could probably use his magic to unclip your bra or something.

...Well, why would he even do that?

You inhaled and turned around, slipping your hands inside the jacket’s sleeves and pulling it over your head as fast as you possibly could. You sat down and grabbed your shoes, pulling them closer to you as you pulled off your old socks and put on new ones. You spared a glance at the skeleton in the room to see his eyes shut, smile still on his face. Sighing, you slipped your shoes on and stood up, fixing your hoodie a bit. 

Sans was on his feet when you approached the door, but as you went to reach for it, his hand overlapped yours. You paused and looked at him, confusion vs. a casual grin.

You stared at each other for a minute, waiting for him to either pull back or say something, but neither happened.

“Aren’t you gonna open the door?” he teased, and you felt your eyebrow twitch.

“I could if your hand wasn’t there.” He chuckled and pulled back, but you could tell there was something on his mind. Deciding to ask him on the way to Grillby’s, you started towards the living room when a familiar hand latched onto your wrist. “Sans, make up your mind,” you jeered as you turned and looked back at him. His eyelights were gone.

“Knock knock.”

“What.” Was now seriously the time for jokes?

“Knock knock.” His voice was a little harder, and you sighed.

“Alright, Sans. Who’s there?”

“Telly.”

“Telly who?”

“If you have something to _telly_ , now would be the time.”

Despite yourself, you snorted. “Okay, what?”

He shrugged. “Just a test.” Then he winked, and the world around you fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else missed the puns?  
> ( ; u ; )
> 
> So something's obviously on Sans's mind, but what could it be...? 
> 
> As usual, feedback welcome~ :3  
>  
> 
> ~~Also yes, I know 'Sans's' kinda looks awkward, but I'm too lazy to fix it fite me actually plez don't i'm just a cinnamon roll plez D:~~


	12. Alcohol Fuels the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess things happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So those who read all the fabulous tags may have noticed I deleted a few… key features. If you didn’t notice, maybe the chapter will help you ;3333
> 
> It's a little shorter than I wanted it to be, but it works.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~me when i realized i liked sans i mean whAT~~
> 
>  
> 
> Accidentally just noticed the title is kind'f a pun whOOps

You blinked and the world was back in the form of a bar with wooden walls and wooden tiles. You stumbled a bit, grip on Sans's jacket nearly pulling him with you as you stepped forward and grunted.

"Sans, why did you do that? I didn’t get to brush my teeth!”

Your complaints fell on deaf ears as he waved at the empty counter. Grillby did a good job at cleaning up the mess Sans created; it looked like nothing even happened. 

“Oh yeah. Oops. Must’ve forgot.” He didn’t sound very sorry as he took his usual spot on his stool. A bright hand came out from under the counter and laid out your apron for you, and as you retrieved it, you looked down at the squatting man ( ~~hot damn that _ass_~~ ). 

“Grillby, do you ha-- wait, what are you doing?”

The man sat back on his heels, sighing. He was sitting next to a bunch of bottles, and there was a garbage back beside him. You could smell the familiar smell of alcoholic magic wafting heavily from him. “Restocking,” he replied like he does when he’s under the influence. 

Neither you or Sans decided to ask, and instead you sat back slightly on the stool you were most prone to sit on. Feeling something particularly odd there, you stopped and looked back down to see a fresh whoopie cushion waiting to be deployed.

“Whoops,” Sans said comically, taking the balloon and tossing it haphazardly over his shoulder. “Good thing you caught that. Weirdos like leaving those on seats all the time.”

You gave him a look before sitting down again and continuing what you were about to ask. “Do you happen to have any gum?”

There was shuffling, the sound of a drawer being opened, and then a pack of mint gum was slammed on the counter. You thanked him as you took out a few pieces, unwrapping and popping one in your mouth. 

Remembering your duties, you put the apron back on the counter and stood up to walk over to the front door and plug in the open sign. You dusted your knees off in a feeble attempt to get dog hair off. You really needed to sweep again. 

Making a mental note, you turned around just in time to see Grillby walking into the back room, carrying a box. Your eyes instantly honed in on his arms, which were strained as he held the box between them. You never really considered yourself to be attracted to weird body parts before then, but you were learning more and more about yourself the longer you knew them. 

Them being Sans and Grillby.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts like a Etch-A-Sketch board, you walked back to the counter and sat down, the silence weighing on you like a fog. 

“Do you think Grillby ever plans on fixing that jukebox?” you asked, looking at the corner. It had some obvious wear and tear, but you doubted it wouldn’t be repairable. Besides, a little bit of music would liven up the place. 

Sans shrugged, leaning back slightly so he wasn’t so uncomfortably hunched. “Dunno. You might have to _flask_ him yourself.”

You gave him a weird look as he shook a thin reflective box-looking object at you. It swished as he did, and you frowned, not missing the faintly written ‘Grillby’ on the object. “Resorting to straight-up whiskey, eh?” you joked, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the object. Ironic that you found alcohol intolerable yet you worked in what could basically be described as a bar.

“Nah,” the skeleton practically tossed it, making it land in one of the side shelves of where the bar pulled a sharp 90° to make another set of seats. “Found it. Thought it was interesting.” He said no more on the subject, and you had nothing to say it, either. You yawned, stretching slightly as Sans studied you silently. Right as you were about to ask what his issue was, he rested his cheek on his hand and elbow on the counter, staring at you fullon. “So, kiddo, I have a question. Mind tickling my funny bone with an answer?”

You poked where you assumed the requested bone would be. “I’ve been known tibia _humerus_ person, so what’s it?”

He gave you one of his wide grins and lifted off his hand, rolling his wrist so his palm faced the ceiling. “Good one. Anyway, I was wondering wh--”

Both you and Sans looked up as Grillby pushed open the back room door, entering the main part of the bar. He looked up at the clock above the door, his flame flickering a bit before he grabbed something from the shelves. He placed a cup in front of you and snazzily poured you a cup of soda. You thanked him and took a sip, looking over your shoulder as the doors finally opened, and the customers came in. You, for once, didn’t recognize a handful, which was a relief. You got to your feet and tied your apron on, taking the tray of orders to deliver. For the first time since you got the job, you had to pull out your notepad and take down orders. Grillby was really fast in preparing everything, and soon everybody was accommodated and you were once again sitting next to Sans and the female duck-like monster (the closer you looked, the more she looked like a robin to you and you started to regret considering her as a duck), absently sipping on a vanilla shake. 

Work seemed to pass by quicker than usual, and next thing you knew, you were listening to your favorite playlist with a pair of earbuds Sans fetched for you (yes, from your apartment), sweeping the floor while silently jamming out. Sans and Grillby were having a hushed conversation, but you didn’t mind as you barely contained yourself from performing a guitar solo on the poor broom you held hostage.

“Sans,” you heard Grillby say, and discretely took out your one earbud, wrapping it around your ear. You could still hear your music so you could keep jamming, but you could also hear their conversation, “would you mind going out and buying everything on this list for me?”

Sans snorted. “Grillby, no offence but half this stuff doesn--”

“I’ll take 3% off your tab.”

There was the distinct pop of magic as Sans teleported away, and you fixed your earbud to keep yourself busy. You were so caught up in the beat that you didn’t notice the figure bright as day walking up behind you until he used on hand to grab your wrist and the other to rip the broom from your grasp. You watched as the object was flung deeper into the establishment before looking up in confusion at the hottie above you. “Grillby--”

Your sentence fell short as a pair of warm lips slammed against yours. The surprise knocked you back, your foot colliding with a chair. The weight of the grown man sent you falling, and you winced as your back connected with the tabletop. During the whole event, your lips somehow stayed connected, and as you went to push him off ( ~~despite all your bodily functions telling you to pull him closer into you~~ ), his hand shoved yours against the wood. 

Right as your lungs were beginning to burn, he pulled back, pressing his other hand to your chest to prevent you from moving. You didn’t even think he had lips until that moment. Your gaze flicked to the door, almost wishing Sans would just walk on through it already. 

Grillby’s hand moved off your wrist and instead found purchase on your hip, moving his hand down your leg and pulling it up slightly, pressing his waist against yours. Your mind was racing with the repeated question of ‘What the Fuck’ as he pushed full flush against you, pressing his fiery lips against your neck. Despite yourself, your body instinctively arched against his touch, moving your head back to offer him more skin. His flames seemed to dance in satisfaction as he dragged his fingers up your hoodie, rubbing his fingers across your hips. Your body was beginning to feel tingly where he touched, but you still tried to wiggle away from him.

“Grill--”

“Hey, I got your booz--”

Both of you froze as the front door opened. You looked over to see a familiar figure looming in the doorway, holding a box and two hovering nearby with blue magic. For a second, you thought his eyelights disappeared, but soon after you thought so, they were back. 

Or, you realized they were still there. Cuz they never left. 

...Right.

He walked in, set the boxes down, and flumped over the counter with a huff. You and Grillby stared at him, waiting for anything else to happen, but nothing did. His hands were still up your jacket, but neither of you noticed as Sans began to move and heave his torso up the counter more. He leaned back up holding four-- no, six bottles of ketchup, spun on his heel, and waltz out with a lazy grin. You practically winced as the door slammed shut behind him.

A few moments later, Grillby pushed off you, undoing his tie as he walked towards the stairs and began his accent. You stared after him, dazed, confused, and flustered before finally picking yourself off the table and making your way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Grillby is not an alcoholic. He knows his drinking limits. He just had a bit too much to drink, and that’s it. Tends to happen a lot, actually, but we’ll deal with that later.
> 
>    
>  ~~Yes, I know ‘booze’ has an ‘e’ in it but Sans stopped talking halfway through the word.~~


	13. Talk To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans finally confronts you about the dream and you make a new friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went back and fixed something in chapter 10 that I didn’t notice. My bad. So, when you have time, go back and look at the first notes to see what I changed. It was something minor, so you don’t have to, but it makes more sense now.
> 
> _Huge_ thanks to VooDooVista for helping me figure out what the hell to do with this chapter  <3

You leaned your weight on your door, letting it fall open with you on it. You stopped it before it hit the wall, though, and peeled yourself from it, shutting and locking it. You felt gross, having not showered so that was your first stop. You took off your shoes, socks, and wormed your way out of your jeans on the way towards the bathroom, clicking on the light and lifting your hoodie off your torso. You could nearly see all the dirt on your skin, your face contorting in distaste as you rubbed your stomach, just about feeling the muck roll under your touch. 

Making a disgusted noise, you turn on the water, finish undressing and step into the shower. 

Feeling the water rain down your back instantly washed not only dirt but stress away, and you sighed as you scrubbed your scalp, spreading the water through your hair and try and wash most the grime out before applying shampoo. As you grabbed the bottle, your mind began to wander back to what happened at Grillby’s. Your body was still tingly where the man’s fingers of fire grazed your skin, burning the feeling into your veins. You never expected Grillby, out of everybody, to be the first to act on his feelings. To you, he was just a shy guy trying to make a living.

Apparently not.

Thinking about Grillby made your mind flash back to how Sans reacted. It must’ve just been a trick of the light, shadows bouncing off Sans’s skull and making it look like he was fazed, but it ultimately seemed like he wasn’t. Either Sans was a really good actor…

...or he _rrrreeally_ was not okay with seeing such a steamy moment.

Thoughts of a possessive Sans began to surface, blending in with images of your dream, but you instantly pushed them down and tried to think about something else.

Like your goddamn laundry.

“Fuck,” you grumbled as you rinsed conditioner out of your hair, realizing that literally nothing you owned was clean except maybe one shirt and a couple more pairs of underwear. Plus work tomorrow and--

Work. 

You forced yourself to keep washing your hair as the horrible realisation dawned on you. You had work the next day, which meant you had to see Grillby. And Sans. If Sans even went. If you were him, you wouldn’t go. Not after last night.

Maybe you should just call in sick. Would that be weird? He’d probably think you were sick of him and then end up firing you. 

Then again, that would probably be for the best. You’d never have to see him again. Or… Sans, probably. 

Or everybody who went to Grillby’s on a daily basis.

You pulled a face as a familiar voice mumbled in your head: _The customers really like you._

Fuck.

Sighing, you finished washing off and shut off the water, grabbing a towel off the rack and drying off a little before stepping out, fervently scrubbing your hair with the cloth to at least dry it somewhat. 

“Welp,” you mumbled as you wrapped and tied the towel around your body, opening the bathroom door. “Time to--”

You stopped short the moment you heard the unmistakable pop. You stood, waiting, for any other noise, but when nothing else came, you sighed. Probably just hearing things. 

Gathering the clothes from the floor, you walked into your room and proceeded to gather everything, shoving them in a net mesh bag for easier transport. Once that was done, you pulled out a pair of undies, placing them on the bed as you pulled open a couple more drawers to look for a tanktop or something. You found a comfortable-looking tank top and a pair of workout shorts that you bought a while ago in the event that you wanted to get back into exercising. Needless to say, you never did. You’d already done and wore all your sweatpants and sweaters, so that’s what you had to wear for now.

Sighing, you put on your outfit, attempting to towel dry your hair one more time before throwing it in with your dirty clothes, heaving it over your shoulder like Santa and his big-ol’-sack of gifts to head downstairs and claim a washer. You really needed to get a washing machine and dryer for yourself and start using your spare wash room. 

Eh, something for another day.

Slipping on a pair of slippers, you grabbed your key and locked up your apartment, heading towards the elevator to head to the basement. 

Luck was on your side, as when you arrived, nobody was down there and there were no machines running. Taking a moment to do a little victory dance, you placed the bag down next to you, opened the washer, opened the bag, and dumped your clothes in the machine. The tedious task enabled your brain to once again wander, and somehow the thought of texting Sans popped into your mind. You did want to talk to him and make sure he was okay. Maybe you could invite him over. 

Pausing, you pulled your phone out and opened Sans’s conversation.

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Yo, you okay?_

You took a second to spread the items evenly before stopping, feeling your phone vibrate. Already?

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >yeah, i’m good. are you?_

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Why wouldn’t I be?_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >reasons i’d rather not bring up right now._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Wanna talk about it?_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >i guess._

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >I can make hotdogs._

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >you drive a pretty good deal. how ever could i resist free food?_  
_ >>see you soon._

With a proud grin, you slipped your phone back in your pocket and leaned down to grab your--

Wait.

You forgot your soap upstairs.

An aggravated growl forced itself from your chest and you spun around to head back to the elevator when it was suddenly chucked at you. Well, tossed underhand. It still freaked you out as your bottle of laundry detergent flew over your ducked head, causing you to gasp in alarm. You turned to see if it was hurt when it hit the wall, but found that it didn’t, and instead sat suspended in air.

“Missing this?”

You looked at the voice, watching a skeletal hand wave a pack of dryer sheets at you, the other hand outstretched to keep the bottle floating. There was the sound of plastic on metal as he set it down before underhanding you to box. You caught it this time, and placed it next to the bottle.

“Thanks,” you told him, shifting awkwardly on your feet. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to invite him over. He was giving you that lazy smile again, but something seemed off about it.

“No problem.” Closer inspection led you to believe he was forcing himself to maintain a smile, and that’s why it looked so casual. It was more like a grimace than anything. His jacket was hanging loosely on his shoulders, and, despite it being physically impossible, looked pretty disheveled. You sucked in your breath and looked away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Did you want to… talk, or… something…?”

He stepped closer to you and grabbed on of the chairs strewn about, placing it a few feet away from you and huffing as he threw himself onto it. “Dunno. S’there something to talk ‘bout?” 

He sounded tired. “Ah… well… that’s why I was asking you.” You grabbed the bottle of detergent and poured a bit in with your clothes, shutting the lid and turning on the machine. It’d make talking a bit harder, but at least you’d be a step closer to having clean clothes.

Sans hummed, nearly to himself, and leaned back slightly, closing his eye(socket)s. “Well, I guess somethin’ has been buggin’ me for a while.”

You leaned against the machine as it growled to life, staring at him. “Well, what is it?”

He chuckled to himself and opened on of his sockets. “Feel like talking about that dream you had?”

Embarrassment flushed over your entire being, and you put a hand on your face, grimacing at yourself. “Oh… that.”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell over the room as you tried to think about the best way to describe it. “Well… what do you want to know?”

He shrugged, and you pulled a face. “Well, for one, let’s start with what it was about.”

Easy. “You.”

He let out an amused breath, wry smile still constant. “Okay, that one was easy. Where was it?”

“Grillby’s.” The name slipped off your tongue almost like toxin. It even made Sans slightly uncomfortable.

“Great. Did you enjoy it?”

“Say what?” Your jaw fell slack as you stared at him. Enjoy it? What was he trying to get at?

“Did you enjoy it?” He pushed off the chair and approached you, staring intensely into your eyes. Eye contact always made you anxious, so you glanced away.

“I--”

“Are you telling me or the wall?”

You snorted and looked back at him to see him patiently waiting, almost a little intrigued with what you had to say. You tried not to get lost in the dark abyss of his eyesockets and took a minute to collect your thoughts. Should you even tell him? He did ask, after all. Why wouldn’t you? How would you even phrase it?

_Yes, Sans. I did enjoy it. I enjoyed every second of feeling your big, fat, magical dick inside me; and yes, that was a pun._

Fuck that.

“Uh… y-yeah, I guess you could say I did.” You felt your face heating up with each passing second, and you noticed his grin slightly twitch into a less plastic-looking one and more into a legit smile. 

And then it fell once again.

“So, mind if I ask another question?”

“Uh… sure.”

“If you liked it so much, why did I walk in on…” Clearly he had no way to word what he was thinking, but he didn’t have to.

“It wasn’t how it looked. At least, not on my end. Grillby sorta just… tackled me while I was trying to sweep.” You placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled his gaze back to yours. He actually looked kinda ~~distraught~~ distressed. The deep bags under his sockets seemed worse than before, which worried you. You pushed down temptations to ask if he was getting enough sleep, and raised an eyebrow as he made a look as if he was about to say something. 

The elevator doors _bing_ ed open, and a confused masculine voice gasped, “Oh.”

You and Sans both looked to see a man probably in his 20s standing in the elevator door, staring at you both. He seemed slightly shaken at the sight of a _skeleton_ in the laundry room. Most people still weren’t quite used to the appearance of monsters, and they probably never would be. 

“U-uh, excuse me,” he mumbled as he slipped quickly past Sans, as if he didn’t trust being near him. You felt slightly guilty, and also mildly ticked off, but bit your tongue as Sans reverted his gaze back to you, reminding you how close you two really were. You could probably kiss him if you wanted to.

Not like you did.

*cough*

“Why don’t you go to my room and wait for me there?” you offered, noticing his eyelights flick to the guy hurriedly shoving his clothes into the washer next to yours. He was probably in the same predicament as you. 

“Okay,” was the resigned reply; you blinked and Sans was gone.

You looked back at the washer, trying to estimate how long you had to wait. Your phone was at 45%, so you could probably chill. 

“Wha-- who was that?”

You looked up at the guy. He slowed his roll, shoveling the last articles into the machine before reaching for his powdered soap. 

“Oh, uh… a friend,” you took the chair and offered it to him, in which he declined politely. You shrugged and sat the chair down, realizing how tired your feet were only after sitting. 

“A friend?” the man parroted as he leaned against the machine he was using, craning his neck to look at you. You kicked your feet onto the table next to you and sighed.

“Yeah. He actually helped me land my job,” you smiled up at him. “He’s a great guy; his name’s Sans.”

The man gave you a funny look. “As in the font?”

You snorted. “Yeah. I guess he _is_ a real…”

“Don--”

“COMIC~~!”

The disappointment on his face as he tried to fight back his own laughter only caused you to laugh harder at your own stupidity. If Sans was there, you bet he would’ve been dying along with you. Or making more puns.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to use that!” you howled as you tried not to fall off the chair. “Oh my god I’m so happy right now!”

He placed a hand on his face and exhaled heavily. “How could you?”

You tried to regain your composure as you rubbed your face, still chuckling. “I’m sorry, I had to. 

“It’s fine. I guess that joke was kinda _fonty_.”

You stared at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, feeling happiness swell in your chest. This is what Sans probably felt when Papyrus made the puns about steak that one night. 

“...g-get it? Funny? Fonty…?” 

Your lack of a response caused him to start having a mild panic attack. You exhaled through your teeth so hard you made a gross noise. “Wow! That was… wow.”

“Was it not--”

“No, that was great!” you laughed, standing up and offering your hand. “I’m (Name).”

“Nate,” he beamed as you shook hands, the wide smile still on your face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, too!” Right as you let go, your machine came to a stop, and you withdrew to begin the awkward transportation of the damp clothes from the washer to the dryer. As you did this, you made conversation with Nate: what he did for a living, if he was enjoying life, and how he felt about the monsters. 

“Personally,” he began, helping you by picking up a shirt, sock, and pair of tights you dropped on the way to the other machine, “I don’t really mind them being here. I feel like it was wrong for them to be down there in the first place, being as it was probably humans who started the stupid war. It was just a whole load of bullshit, so I’m pretty happy they’re out. Plus, it makes life interesting; usually I go to work and see the same boring people, but now I see fresh, new, interesting faces.”

Boy could you agree to that.

“What about you?”

“I’m glad they’re free,” you said simply, tucking the clothes into the machine before tossing a dryer sheet in with them and setting the machine settings appropriately. “It wasn’t right for them to be trapped down there for so long.” You could only imagine how bad it was down there, with probably no sunlight or fresh air. Then again, there was magic. You turned the dryer on and turned around to look back at Nate, leaning back on the machine. “Needless to say, I’m glad they’re here.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I thought so, being as you were talking with one when I came in. What was that about, anyway?”

You ran a hand through your mangled, slightly still damp, hair. “A friend of his and I kinda hand a… moment… in which he walked in during.” Nate’s eyes went wide, and you suppressed a chuckle. “It wasn’t anything too crazy, but it was still really bad. I was worried that it ruined our friendship, so I asked if he wanted to talk. And that’s when you walked in.”

Nate nodded in thought. “Ooh, I see. I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

You made a noise similar to ‘pftbtbtbbt’ and waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. He and I are gonna talk later.”

Both of you froze as your phone vibrated against the table, making a weird noise. You stepped over to it and looked to see a message from a few minutes ago. Your phone was a silent; bless notification reminders.

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >did you die?_

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Yes, I’m dead. 100% percent.  
>> x_x_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >well that sucks. ah well, what can you do?_

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Haha dick._

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >ya wanna see? ;)_

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Plz never use that emoji again._

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >you didn’t decline.  
>> ;))_

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Dear lord XD please don’t send any dickpics; I’m not ready for that_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >aren’t you?  
>> ;)))))_

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >Okay now you’re just doing that to tease me_

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >but of course.  
>> so dick or no dick?_

**Message to: Sans**  
_ >No offence, but no dick._

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >lemme guess, you were gonna say ‘in your dreams’ but you knew i was gonna say ‘more like in yours’?_  
>>you’re no fun (name).  
>>>;(( 

**Message from: Sans**  
_ >XD see you in a bit lol_

You slipped your phone back in your pocket and stretched slightly, looking up to see Nate unloading his clothes. You dramatically jogged over to him and helped him, just as he helped you.

“Was that him?” he asked as you handed him his jeans, and you nodded.

“Yeah. Making sure I’m not dead.”

He gave you a tight lipped smile. “Courteous.” 

You smiled awkwardly before hearing the dryer buzz behind you. “Ope. I guess that’s my leave.”

He gave you another smile. “Nice to meet you, (Name).”

“You, too,” you repeated with a grin as you grabbed your clothes, shoved them into your net mesh, grabbed your soap and dryer sheets, and fled into the elevator.

 

You shut your apartment door behind you softly and sighed, looking into your living room. You could see a lump on the couch, illuminated by the glow of the TV, down nearly all the way, and as you walked further in, you could tell it was Sans; plus, you could hear his even breathing. You chuckled lightly to yourself, put your clothes in your room, and grabbed a throw blanket from the hallway closet. You fluffed it out and layed it over Sans, putting a hand on the couch in thought. To kiss or not to kiss… the grand questions.

Deciding against it, you awkwardly pat his skull and walked away, exhausted and dreading work the next day.

As you settled into bed, you closed your eyes, ready for the few hours of sleep when your phone buzzed. Thinking it was Sans, you grabbed it in confusion to see it was, in fact, not Sans.

**Message from: Boss McFlamesman**  
_ >Day off tomorrow._

You could feel your mood soaring already.

**Message to: Boss McFlamesman**  
_ >Seriously?_

**Message from: Boss McFlamesman**  
_ >Yes._

**Message to: Boss McFlamesman**  
_ >Thank you!...? I’ll see you Wednesday, then._

**Message from: Boss McFlamesman**  
_ >Yes._

You rolled over and squealed into your pillow before readjusting yourself, turning off your alarm, and snuggling into the blankets for another night of ~~sexy~~ blissful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why wouldn’t Grillby’s name be Boss McFlamesman?
> 
> Give me one reason >:3
> 
> So thoughts on Nate? Good guy, or creepy weirdo? Something in between, maybe? o3o 
> 
> So excited to write the next chapters *giddy squeak*


	14. Something's Fishy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We adventure with Sans.  
> You meet Undyne and realize that fishes can actually be badass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of this story is in Sans’s POV. Like, the beginning. And that’s probably it. Yep.

**_ ~Sans’s POV~ _ **

It was probably around 3 AM when Sans woke up, still on your couch and the sound of Mettaton on a talkshow filling the room. The TV was just above a whisper, but he could recognize the smooth metallic voice of his brother’s idol from miles away. Groaning, Sans pushed himself onto one arm, feeling his nonexistent joints cramping under him.

“Ow,” he mumbled as he pulled the blanket he didn’t remember grabbing off him, looking at it tiredly.

He lifted it to his face and inhaled deeply.

Yep, that’s clean.

Taking a second to sloppily fold the blanket and haphazardly fling it onto your couch, he stood and stretched a bit more, feeling himself sway drunkenly.

With a pop, he fell over onto his own bed, smelling the orange-scented sheets from when Papyrus did laundry. He almost felt bad for leaving your apartment without saying goodbye, but then he realized he’d probably just see you later at Grillby’s.

…

Was he even going to go? Would that be stupid?

The correct answer to both was ‘yes’.

Sighing, Sans rolled over and buried his head into his pillow, assuming a comfortable stance to sleep. Just five more minutes…

 

However long Sans slept, it was definitely _not_ five minutes.

Groaning, he rolled out of bed with an unsatisfying thump, staying there for a few more seconds. He wasn’t ready to face the day.

Then again, when was he ever?

Just as he was about to pick himself off the floor, his bedroom door was slammed open, a vigilant Papyrus stepping in.

“Hello, brother!” The energetic skeleton announced as he held a hand to his chest. “I have come to inform you that I will be going to Undyne’s house for some more cooking lessons!” 

“Sounds good.”

“It most certainly will be!” Papyrus laughed triumphantly before turning around and leaving, shutting Sans’s door behind him. The shorter skeleton chuckled before deciding that he should probably get up and start the day. 

 

When Sans stepped into Grillby’s, the first thing he didn’t expect was to _not_ see (Name) working nearby. He glanced around a few times before confirming her absense. Taking in an unnecessary breath, he approached the counter where Grillby stood, scrubbing cup. 

“Where’s (Name)?” Sans asked casually as he seated himself, taking note of the slight flicker Grillby gave off.

“...home,” the flame snuffed, keeping his gaze on the cup. ~~Well, if he had a gaze.~~

“Did ya give her a day off?” Sans rocked his ketchup bottle between his fingers by the lid, staring disinterestedly at the counter. 

“I did,” Grillby responded as he pulled out a bottle of unnamed alcohol, pouring it into a glass and handing it to the robin a few stools over. She thanked him, and leaned back to pass it to Dogaressa, who in turn thanked the bird. Not having an extra pair of hands really hindered making sure everybody was taken care of. “She deserves a break.”

“It’s only Tuesday, though?”

Grillby had no way to answer that, instead keeping his head down and twisting the cup along the cloth he held.

Sans narrowed his eye(socket)s, squeezing the ketchup bottle a little harder. “Is this about last night?”

Once more, Grillby kept his ~~nonexistent~~ mouth shut. This fact, however, didn’t bother Sans, and he kept talking:

“I don’t understand why you did that, Grillbz,” Sans muttered, dropping the squished bottle of ketchup on the counter. Instinctively, Grillby leaned down and offered the skeleton another bottle, which he accepted numbly. “Haven’t we spoke about this beforehand?”

“That was awhile ago, Sans,” the man sighed, leaning backwards and resting his back on the counter behind him. “And I’ve already warned you about this before. Don’t you remember what I told you?”

Sans averted his gaze, glaring at the floor. Of course he remembered what Grillby had told him. How could he forget?

“Need I remind you?”

“No.” Sans looked back up at him to see him preparing another drink. “But that still doesn’t explain why you did it. You’ve never done it this quickly before.”

“That’s because, by now, you’d usually already have done what you needed to do.”

Sans huffed and took a long drink of the ketchup he nearly squeezed onto his phalanges. “That still doesn’t give you the right to do so. I can take my time with this. Do you not understand how bad it hurts to have to relive it, everything repeating itself? No, you don’t. How can you? You only do it to piss me off, and guess what? It works.”

A few moments of silence passed between them, and Sans nearly slammed the plastic bottle on the counter, feeling magic run through his bones and surge straight his left eye. Both his eyelights were out. “Don’t feel like talkin’ anymore, huh? Seems like you”-- a clear bottle flew into Sans’s open hand, the blue dissipating the moment it made contact with his bones-- “should get a bit of alcohol into your **_system_**!!”

Sans flipped the bottle and grabbed it by it’s neck, forcing himself up with his free hand planted on the countertop and knocking the stool to the ground. He reeled back and swung the glass towards Grillby’s head. By now everybody in the bar was looking at them in shock and mild awe. Before it made contact, an orange hand came up and easily smacked the bottle from Sans’s hand, grabbing his wrist with the same hand, and slammed the skeletal arm onto the counter, sending Sans practically crashing onto the counter. The bar fell silent, all eyes on them in anticipation as Sans gripped his shoulder in pain. Thank the stars he took time to work up his HP a little more, otherwise a move as simple as that could have probably done some serious damage. 

“I have every right to kick you out right now,” Grillby mumbled under his breath towards the smaller monster, causing him to involuntarily freeze. He’d only ever Grillby angry once before, and that was to some drunk guy trying to start a fight.

Similar to Sans’s situation.

“I know you’re upset, Sans, and you’re generally well behaved. You’ve even helped stop a few fights yourself, and, if you paid, you’d be my best customer, so this is just a warning. But, if you ever try to pull a stunt like that again?” Grillby twisted Sans’s arm slightly, causing him to gasp and jerk at the pain, body curling towards it. Y’know, ‘give a little to get a little’ and whatnot. It did ease up on the pain, though, so that helped. “Let’s just say you’d be better off not coming back here for a while.”

“Of course, boss,” Sans shrugged his free shoulder and winked, offering his free hand to the ceiling as he bit back what little pain there was. Grillby’s menacing demeanor instantly fell, and he released the skeleton, picking up his glass again.

“Good. I’m sure everybody here would miss you.”

_Right..._ Sans rubbed his wrist and pulled out a coin purse, dropping roughly 100G on the counter before taking the ketchup bottle and walking away.

~

**_ ~Your POV~ _ **

You shut your apartment door as you looked at your phone, rereading the address Papyrus sent you a few more times before shoving your phone back in your pocket and locking your door. You had a day off, and you really didn’t feel like seeing Sans after he straight-up left your apartment. Not like you were looking forward to a pun-filled morning full of _puncakes_ or anything.

...Puncakes.

You shook your head with a weird noise, not entirely sure yourself if the pun was intentional. And you _weren’t_ , at any point, looking forward to having breakfast with Sans. One breakfast with him was enough.

Then again, you really never did get to talk to him about… stuff and things. 

Not that you were complaining; you’d rather avoid having to explain yourself to him. And how did he even know it was about you? You didn’t mumble in your sleep!

...Did you?

Oh, fuck.

Embarrassment flooded your being the moment you stepping outside the apartment and embraced the chilly winter air. Was it possible that, during the night, you moaned Sans’s name? 

Oh _fuck_. 

Before you died of embarrassment, you plugged in the address into your phone’s GPS and started walking as quick as you could, powered by distressed adrenaline. Nobody told you that you sleep-talked, but it was always possible. You weren’t sure, and you were too embarrassed to ask. 

You were literally going to die.

 

Hello, Hum-- I mean, (Name)!” Papyrus held open the door for you, motioning you inside. You cautiously stepped in, looking around as Papyrus continued: “It’s good that you made it! Undyne and I were just about to start!”

“Papyrus, who was it?” A gruff feminine voice came from the kitchen, and you looked up to see a tall, thin, blue-skinned… fish? The moment her eyes trained on you, she burst into a wide, sharp toothed grin. “Hey! A human!”

“Uh--”

“Yes!” Papyrus cut in loudly, causing you to slightly lean away from him to keep at least part of your hearing intact. “This is (Name), the human I told you about multiple times in the past!”

Undyne raised an eyebrow uncertainly. “Oh, yeah? Have you told her anything about _me_?” She jabbed her thumb into her chest, landing a few centimeters from her tanktop strap. 

“Ah… well…?”

“U-Undyne, Pap-pyrus…?” a soft voice stuttered as a small lizard/dinosaur lady in a labcoat peered out from one of the doorways, adjusting her glasses slightly. “Who is--” the moment she noticed you, she stopped, blinking. “O-Oh. H-Hi!”

“Alphys!” Papyrus grabbed your shoulders and pointed your body towards her. “This is (Name)!”

“Oh!” she smiled at you warmly, looking away slightly and fidgeting. “H-Hello.”

“Hi,” you greeted before a new set of hands grabbed you from the sides, squeezing your arms into your ribs as they ripped you from Papyrus’s hold. Next thing you knew, you were nose-to-nose with Undyne.

“Papyrus invited you here to cook, right?” Her sharklike grin began to make you nervous. “Well, what are we waiting for!”

She hooked you under her arm and raced into the kitchen, Papyrus following close behind. Alphys made some sort of noise of protest, but she was drowned out by the sound of dishes clattering around. You were seated in a chair as Papyrus and Undyne ripped containers and pans from the cabinets, making less of a mess than you would’ve anticipated. Things were slammed on the counters, aprons were thrown about, and the next time you blinked, Undyne and Papyrus were standing on either side of the kitchen, arms folded in front of them and big, suspicious smiles on their face.

“Papyrus and I talked it over,” Undyne began, motioning to her cooking apprentice, “and we’ve decided to have a cook-off.”

“A… cook-off?” You didn’t like the sound of that.

“Yeah!” Undyne made fists with her hands and crouched down into a determined stance. “You, Papyrus, and I will all prepare spaghetti to see who is the _ultimate_ chef!”

“Uh--”

“And to see where your cooking skill is. ANyway!!” Undyne suddenly smashed the floor and tomatoes rained down from the heavens. Magical. “Let’s get started!!”

 

Three pots of spaghetti and 1½ destroyed kitchen(s) later, dinner was finally completed. Alphys didn't want anything to do with the steaming pots until a winner was decided, so you, Undyne, and Papyrus swapped plates. You had Papyrus’s, Papyrus had Undyne’s, and Undyne had yours. 

“Forks ready?” Undyne sneered as you all held up your utensils. “Go!”

The moment you bit into it, you and Papyrus struggled to suppressed a cringe. Papyrus’s cooking wasn't all that bad, but it was definitely something different. You felt sorry for the tall skeleton, but his magic probably disabled his ability to barf and probably made it easy to recover. 

Undyne, on the other ~~fin~~ hand, looked as if she had gazed upon the Holy Lord himself. Her eyes were wide, pupils large and sparkly as she held the fork still to her mouth. A beat went by.

...and then she started literally shoveling forkfuls of spaghetti into her mouth.

“UndyNE NO” You and Papyrus both grabbed at her; you took the pot and Papyrus nearly tackled her to the ground, the fork flying across the kitchen.

“Get offa me, Papyrus!” Undyne hissed, kicking the skeleton off her and standing up, Papyrus on his feet mere seconds after. “(Name)! It seems that your cooking skills are impeccable. To celebrate, we will eat yours!” She then literally swiped the table clean, sending the other pots to slam against the wall and smear gooey pasta all over the place. “Now, excuse me as I go get Alphys.”

She bolted out of the kitchen, leaving you, Papyrus, and the slopping mess.

“So,” he cleared his nonexistent throat and smiled at you. “What do you think of Undyne?”

“She's pretty cool,” you admitted, setting the pot down. Luckily, there was still enough for everybody. “Energetic, maybe a little insane, but cool.”

Papyrus seemed enlightened by your words. “She really is, isn't she?” He then took a minute to twiddle his thumbs. “(Name), may I ask a question?”

You blinked. “Yeah, sure. What's up?”

“W-well,” he took in a deep, unnecessary breath. “I was wondering… What you thought of… Sans.”

“Sans?” Why was this suddenly being brought up? 

“Ah, yes…?” He looked away before giving you an awkward smile. Cute, but awkward. “You see, I… last night I heard him… Mumbling about something. Being the cool brother I am, I went to make sure he was alright, but all I saw was him at his desk, throwing pieces of paper into a trashcan beside him. I wanted to make sure he was okay, so I attempted to listen in on what he was saying.” He seemed embarrassed, but kept going. “He… Was muttering something about you.”

“Me?” you parroted, raising your eyebrows in alarm and mild interest. Why would he be grumbling about you?

“Yes. I assumed he was writing you a letter, which made me realize that you two have been getting close. I, being as great as I am, then put two-and-two together and realized he must be writing you a love letter!”

Oh.

“Uh--”

“Now, I first handedly know how it is to not share the same feelings as others, so I must ask you, if you do not share the same feelings as my brother, to please let him down easy. Can you do that for me?” 

Oh god he was giving you the puppy dog eyes.

You took in a breath. “I will.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Papyrus exaggeratedly wiped sweat from his brow. “Thank you, dear human!”

“Uh, no probl--”

“You're gonna love it, Alphy; it’s even better than my cooking!!”

“O-oh, that's good…” 

You and Papyrus both looked as Undyne and Alphys came in, Undyne clearly happy to eat and Alphys looking embarrassed next to the taller fish monster. You and Paps decided that any further conversation would best be saved for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if Sans seemed a little out of character, but that’ll be addressed later.
> 
> Also yes, the thing he and Grillby talked about _will also_ be addressed. Just be patient :3
> 
> And little innocent Papyrus bean awh. 
> 
> So many secrets in this chapter ooh~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this.  
> Should I continue?  
> No...


End file.
